


The Ground is Survivable

by Abigail1998



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon Compliant, Death, F/F, F/M, Fighting, Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Healing, Hope, Living, Love, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, PTSD, Post-Canon, Resurrection, Violence, War, probably smut, probaly idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-06-09 15:06:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 109,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6912124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abigail1998/pseuds/Abigail1998
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The destruction of the City of Light marks the start of healing for the peoples of Skaikru and the Coalition. But as Clarke and her friends rush to Arkadia with a badly injured Indra, they are attack by Azgeda and Bellamy is taken. Weak from their battles with ALIE's slaves they can do nothing but regroup at the dropship. It does not go as planned as Clarke and Octavia stumble upon a crypt that may hold the key to the survival of the human race.</p><p>or</p><p>My canon post season 3 fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aftermath

Clarke  
‘6 months’ Abigail Griffin whispered, she was in the dark compartment of the rover, her hands moving frantically over Indra’s broken body, doing what she could to save the grounder. ‘How can we only have 6 months Clarke?’ Kane pleaded, he was confused about ALIE’s final warnings, but more than that, he was angry at her for what she used his body to do to Indra. ‘Hold on Indra.’ He whispered as he grabbed hold of the woman’s hand. Her face was covered in blood from the cuts where the shrapnel had ripped the left side of her body apart. ‘You shouldn’t have come back for me.’ The shallow breathing of Indra ceased for a few seconds to be replaced by the words, ‘You would have done the same.’ Indra breathes out through pained groans before her head falls back against the cold metal grate she lay on and her tight grip on Kane’s hand relaxes.

‘Indra!’ he called out as he cupped his friends face, searching for signs of life. ‘It’s alright Kane, she’s just unconscious.’ Abigail said, Kane sighed with immense relief. ‘Will she make it?’ Clarke called from the front seat where she’d been starring through the dusty windshield at the forest that flew past them, her finger and thumb gently twisting the Flame around in her hand. ‘We need to get her back to Arkadia.’ Was all Abigail said. Kane still held Indra’s hand, his eyes studying the wounds the explosion had caused, a single tear started to fall from his dark eyes. ‘Kane, I will do everything in my power.’ Abi cupped Kane’s tortured face with her bloodied hands, but he did not notice. He nodded and sniffled but of course the tear still fell. ‘I need you to be strong for her Kane, she will make it. You can’t break down yet Kane, for her sake.’

‘You didn’t answer me Clarke, how do we only have 6 months left?’ Bellamy turns his attention from the wheel, pulling himself from his plans to start a search party for his sister who’d run after taking her vengeance on Pike. ‘ALIE said that there were at least a dozen nuclear power stations from before the missiles hit that were going into meltdown. The water would turn to poison, she said.’ Clarke fell silent at the memory of pulling the killswitch. ‘So even after all we’ve been through. Everyone’s who’s died, it was for nothing. The ground isn’t survivable.’ Clarke didn’t say anything, she didn’t know what to say. ‘We really did send you down here to die.’ Abigail whispers quietly to herself, her hands stop working on Indra even.

Kane after wiping his face clean, notices and grabs her hands, ‘No, I won’t believe that. We have not come so far, we have not lost so much just to have our future stolen from us. That is not how this story ends.’ He says looking straight into her eyes, pleading with the doctor to keep working on Indra. Abigail can see the desperation Kane has for his friend but can’t bring herself to move. ‘Mom’ Clarke kneels next to her, careful to keep her balance as the rover travels over uneven terrain. ‘Listen to me.’ Clarke takes her hands after Kane nods. ‘Kane is right mum, we will find a way. We always do.’ She breathes out, yet it is loud enough to break the silence that had taken over the rover. ‘Please, save Indra. Too many are gone already.’ Abigail, smiles sadly at her daughter while her tears still run down her face. ‘How Clarke? We can’t fight time.’ ‘I don’t know. But we will come up with something.’ Abigail, nods and turns her attention back to Indra, in an instant her face is calm and focussed on her patient. ‘Kane, I need you to hold pressure here.’ She says to her assistant. Clarke leans back against the wall and pulls the clear grey chip out of her pocket. ‘Too many.’ She thinks to herself.

Just as Kane moves his hands to where Abigail had indicated, Bellamy shouts, ‘Ambush!’ an instant later an explosion goes off and the truck is blown off the path and down into a ditch. Bellamy’s head slams onto the wheel in front of him and he’s knocked out cold. Everyone in the back goes flying into the metal walls that surround them. Clarke manages to shield her head before her back impacts on the unyielding metal. Indra would have suffered the worst, she would have been thrown around the compartment with no hope to defend herself, but at the last second Kane throws himself upon Indra to keep her flat on the ground. The rover is barely maintaining its balance with only two of its wheels and a tree branch holding it in place, but it is futile as another explosion throws the rover further into the ravine. Bellamy’s unconscious arms fly around him, his seatbelt stopping him from flying through the windscreen. The rest of the passengers aren’t as lucky, Clarke groans as her back slams into the jagged edges of the metal window shutters, while Abi falls into the door. Kane with all his strength maintains his position as Indra’s brace, but it took its toll as the some of the cracks that could be heard weren’t coming from the trees outside. The rover finally comes to a rest on its roof.

Clarke groans out in pain as she tries to crawl towards her mother, just before she can reach their unmoving bodies, the door at the back of the truck swings open and standing there is a grounder, all wrapped in furs the colour white. Before Clarke can move to grab a weapon she here’s a gunshot ring out from within the rover. Her ears scream and she covers them with her hands trying to block out the deafening blast. Kane slumps back against the wall, the smoking gun in his hand. ‘He was Ice Nation.’ Clarke groaned, ‘He wouldn’t have been alone.’ Kane nods and gently leans Indra’s still unconscious body down on the ground before crawling out the door with his gun raised in front of him. ‘Mom! Mom wake up come on!’ Abigail groaned and started to sit up before hissing out in pain and her hand moves to her shoulder, Abigail moans in pain, ‘It’s dislocated Clarke, you’re going to have to…’ ‘I know, on three.’ Abigail nods as Clarke moves her hands to the positions to relocate the shoulder, like her mom had shown her back on the Ark. ‘One.’ Clarke said as she snapped her hands back and the bone fell back into place. Abigail lets out a shout of pain before rubbing it with her hand.

‘Bellamy?’ Clarke turns towards the driver’s compartment to see a motionless Bellamy hanging from his seat with his arms falling to the roof, now the floor. ‘Bellamy!’ She shuffles towards him to see if he’s alright, another gunshot rings out in the distance. The sounds of leaves being kicked out of the way as someone runs towards the rover before Clarke hears another shot. ‘We need to leave.’ Kane shouts out as he arrives back at the rover. Clarke quickly turns to Bellamy to see that he’s breathing, probably just a concussion she calculates, he’ll be fine. ‘Clarke, you shoot, I’ll carry Indra. I’m not leaving her.’ Clarke nods and takes the silver pistol from his hand. She climbs out of the overturned rover to hold the gun up, taking aim she fires once when she sees an Ice Nation warrior beginning her charge at the rover. ‘Kane stands next to her, he has Indra cradled in his arms. ‘We can’t wait for the others, they might not have even left Polis yet. We need to get to Arkadia.’ ‘What about Bellamy?’ Abigail questions as she climbs out. ‘We can’t just leave him.’

Clarke lowers her head as she knows the decision that must be made here. Bellamy or Indra. As she tossed the options in her mind, stay and defend Bellamy or run, and arrow flew at her, whistling through the air before it burrowed into the ground at her feet. ‘They’re not firing kill shots, they want us alive. I hope.’ Clarke decides as she turns to follow Kane into the woods in what she hoped was the direction of Arkadia with Abi close behind her, cradling her relocated shoulder. ‘I’m sorry Bellamy.’ She whispers as they start to run. Clarke stalled so she’d be the last of her group so that she had a clear line of sight on their pursuers. She shoots at the Ice Nation warriors that are chasing behind them, her shots miss from the movement of her body, running and shooting made it nearly impossible to aim. Clarke can clearly see from how they’re moving that the warriors are determined to catch them. They carried clubs and blunt weapons, not blades, confirming that Ice Nation wanted them alive. Why, Clarke did not know.

‘Keep running, we can’t be far.’ Clarke shouts as she struggles not to trip over anything sticking out of the ground. Branches snap and leaves crumple under the heavy boots of their predators. Clare fires the last of her rounds back at them, she hears a shout of pain, knowing she hit one of them. The gun’s clip is empty, ‘Kane do you have another mag?’ She calls out to the running man ahead of her. ‘No!’ is the reply Clarke receives. ‘Great.’ She tucks the gun into her belt tightly before she falls into a full-blown sprint to catch up with her mother. 

Clarke looks back to see that their pursuers have broken their chase, but Clarke knows they’re not safe yet. ‘Why are they stopping?’ She calls ahead to the others. ‘They know we’re close to home!’ Abi shouts back. Clarke begins to recognise some of the landscape around her as they keep running. ‘They must think we have soldiers at Arkadia!’ Kane calls back. Kane’s chest is heaving and his shaggy hair is slick with sweat, it flails in the winds as he moves with all the speed that his body can muster. He shows no sign of slowing down either, not with Indra in his arms, not until she’s safe. Abigail is beginning to slow and stumble however, ‘Mom you need to keep going.’ Abigail is huffing and wheezing her breaths in and out but she manages to barely maintain her speed.

After a few more seconds of sprinting they can see the break in trees approaching them, Kane speeds up, Indra is shaking roughly in his arms. The rough treatment of her body has reopened a few of the wounds that Abigail had been working to stich up in the rover, but given the circumstances, it was the only way to make sure she survived. ‘Hold on Indra.’ Kane breathes as he breaches the tree line and enters the open clearing that surrounded Arkadia.

Clarke and Abigail burst through moments later. The sun beats down hardly on them with the cloudless sky all but amplifying the scorching rays. They stumble a little as their feet adjust to the flatter terrain of the clearing. Kane was already halfway to the gate. ‘Open the gate!’ he screams at the top of his lungs. Clarke watches past the main gate, as the large metal garage door leading to the rover maintenance area begins to split open. A second later Monty runs through the widening gap with a hand sitting below his ribcage, Harper following close behind him with a rifle in her arms ready to defend their home. Monty takes a second to recognise them, before he runs toward the gate and begins to operate the mechanism. A few seconds later when Kane reaches the gate it is open and he doesn’t even slow down as Monty jumps out of the man’s way as if he were avoiding a bull. Abigail soon follows, not stopping and enters the building after Kane. 

Once Clarke is through she calls out, ‘Close it Monty, quickly!’ Clarke bends over and heaves fresh air into her burning lungs, couching up as her lungs burn with the new air. Clarke wipes the sweat off her brow only for more to fall from her hair a second later. ‘Are you ok?’ Monty asks as he offers his hands for Clarke to lean on. She takes them and Monty begins to lead them back towards the ark at a rushed pace, Harper bringing up the rear clearly expecting something to happen. After a few seconds when Clarke finally has her breath back she answers, ‘We were attacked, by Ice Nation. They wanted us alive, they took Bellamy’ She takes another deep breath. ‘I think they were targeting the Skaikru returning from Polis, they were too close to be planning anything else.’ Monty’s face dropped at the news that his friend was taken by the people who’d tried to kill them before. But he is still happy to see Clarke safe and sound. ‘We’ll get him back Clarke don’t worry. We beat ALIE, we can save Bellamy.’ Clarke nods her agreement, but she has no idea how she could hope to save her friend. 

‘What happened to you?’ Clarke asks, pointing to his bloodstained shirt. ‘Jasper.’ Monty solemnly answers as if he didn’t want to blame his friend. ‘He betrayed us to ALIE.’ Clarke finished, anger beginning to bubble. ‘Yeah. How did you know?’ Monty asks. ‘I found him in the City of Light.’ Clarke answered before entering through the empty rover bay.

Once they’re inside the building Clarke sees Raven limping towards them, with her purple tank top and red jacket hanging off her body. Clarke wraps her arms around her friend, ‘Nicely done Clarke with the City of Light.’ Clarke thinks about what it cost to do it but instead doesn’t say anything. She wanted to enjoy some small bit of comfort before she dropped the news of impending doom on Raven ‘Where’s Kane and my mom?’ Raven points in the direction of the med bay and follows when Clarke begins to head in that direction.

Jasper walks out of the hallway and Clarke falls dead in her tracks. She glares at the man who she had called her friend, the man who had betrayed them when he took the pill. ‘Clarke I’m …’ He doesn’t get to finish as the blonde storms past him, paying him no recognition whatsoever, only shoving him out of the way. She knows that what he said in the City of Light was partly ALIE speaking, but Jasper had chosen to take the key and Clarke didn’t know how to deal with that. And right now she didn’t have the headspace to even try and figure it out. ‘Where’s Bellamy?’ Jasper asks causing Clarke to pause for a second, but she doesn’t answer. Monty comes up next to Jasper and Clarke hears him explain what had happened.

Clarke storms into the med-bay to see a frantic Kane following Abigail’s every order, doing everything possible to save Indra, Clarke could see that her vitals weren’t good at all. ‘Do we have radio?’ Clarke asked. Monty nodded but said. ‘It’s not working though we couldn’t reach you in Polis before.’ Clarke walked towards where Monty was leading her, ‘We need to try again, I need to reach Murphy, he was leading all of Skaikru back here. They need to know they’re walking into a trap.’ Clarke sped up until she was at a light jog until they reached the radio.

‘Murphy come in.’ Static. ‘Murphy please come in.’ Static again, Clarke groaned in frustration. ‘Bryan, Miller anyone pick up!’ She shouted down the line. ‘Clarke.’ Came the reply through the radio, Clarke released a heavy sigh of relief, ‘Miller, I need you to listen to me. You can’t come to Arkadia. Ice Nation is in the forest just past the perimeter, I think they have us surrounded.’ Static returned. ‘We hear you Clarke, we haven’t left Polis yet, do we stay here?’ ‘Yes, stay in Polis, Ice Nation doesn’t know that Ontari is dead yet. They think that Polis is under their control.’ There was a moment of silence before Miller returned, ‘Why would Ice Nation choose now to attack us?’ Clarke looked around the table at all the other faces, all just as confused as hers, her gaze stopped at the corridor to the med bay as she realised. ‘They must have watched Kane shoot their King, they want us for alive for execution.’ Clarke heard a different voice come through the radio. ‘Clarke’ It was Murphy’s, ‘That’s bad and all, but we can’t stay here very long, the people don’t exactly have much reason to be very hospitable to us seeing as it was a Skaikru that persuaded Ontari to butcher them in the street.’ Clarke leaned her forehead against the radio in her hand and sighed as she thought. ‘Can you guys make it to the dropship?’ Clarke asked.

‘We won’t all fit inside.’ Clarke can’t think of another option, ‘There’s nowhere else Murphy, you’ll just have to cram in. It’s not safe here. The Ice Nation already took Bellamy.’ There is silence on the other end of the radio. ‘Murphy?’ Clarke asks the silence, ‘We’re heading out Clarke. Out.’ The radio goes silent and Clarke clips it back into the holster. ‘We need to plan to move. They were scouting this place. I might have wounded a few of them but Ice Nation has endless warriors, if we stay here we die and wait they’ll bring reinforcements and storm us. We leave in 20 minutes, take what you can carry, weapons and food are priority.’ Clarke stated in a tone that she recognized from Kane or Lexa even. After nodding to Monty and Harper, Clarke turned back to the med bay with Raven following behind her. Monty, Jasper and Harper moved to start following the commands Clarke had given them.

‘Clarke wait.’ Raven said as she rested her hand on Clarke’s leather clad shoulder. ‘Clarke, I know you, there’s something else.’ Clarke sighed and thought about whether she should trouble Raven with what ALIE had told her, she decided that Raven deserved to know. ‘ALIE told me that we have six months before the last nuclear reactors on the planet burn, the radiation from it will kill everything alive across the planet. That’s why ALIE was trying to get everyone into the City of Light, to save them.’ Clarke explained, she hated that ALIE, who had the blood of so many, was doing it to save humanity in her own sick way. Raven looked devastated. ‘No Clarke, there has to be another way, we will survive this, like we survive everything else this world seems to throws at us.’ Raven hugged Clarke and the blonde allowed herself to feel the warmth and comfort of her friend close to her. She’d said similar words to her mother but that didn’t erase the doubts that had started to build in her mind since the second she’d pulled the killswitch. She’d spent every second after that debating whether she’d made the right decision, to destroy what might have been the only way to save humanity, or its consciousness at least.

Raven could see the conflict in Clarke’s eyes but she couldn’t think of anything else to say that would comfort Clarke, but she needed her friend and her leader back. ‘Clarke we can’t think about it now, you said we have six months, let’s survive them before we worry about radiation.’ Clarke nodded but the action was solemn, ‘Go help the others pack Raven. I’ll be fine.’ She wouldn’t be and Raven knew it, but Clarke was leading now, which is what everyone needed.

Clarke stayed against the wall and pulled the flame out of its container that she’d been keeping in her shirt. ‘I miss you.’ She whispered as she gently stroked the chip. Clarke knows that Lexa is in there. Lexa saved her in the City of Light, Lexa fought an army by herself for Clarke, and now Clarke will never get the chance to thank her. Clarke will never be able to hold Lexa again, never feel her lips, or her fingers, or her. Clarke slid down the wall until she was crouching. Clarke stayed like that for a moment in the dark hallway. Just staring at the chip that held her Heda. Tears began to fall down her face, and she did nothing to stop them. ‘Please come back to me.’ Just as she whispered the words to the AI, Clarke could swear she saw the tiniest of flickers of light inside the chip. It was probably a trick of the light but it was all Clarke needed. ‘I love you Lexa.’ She breathed out. Clarke stood and wiped her eyes, she sniffed and walked towards the med-bay, pushing the box back into her shirt. 

Clarke walked into the med bay to see her mother sitting against the wall with her legs held close to her chest, however there was a look of relief that covered her face. Clarke walked around the corner to see that Indra’s vitals were just stable. Clarke breathed out a long sigh of happiness to see that Kane was sitting in the bedside chair. With a smile on his face. The first one she’d seen on anyone in a while. ‘How is she?’ Clarke asks resting a comforting hand on Kane’s shoulder. ‘She’s stable. When the grenade went off she pulling me behind a wall to block the blast. She nearly died because of me Clarke.’ ‘No, she didn’t Marcus. She nearly died because of ALIE. We can’t afford to accept blame we don’t deserve anymore.’ Clarke said as she walked over to the two of them, Abigail nodded her approval of the sentiment at Clarke.

‘Can we move her?’ Kane hung his head as if he’d been waiting for the question to come up. ‘We can’t stay here; Ice Nation will be back to finish the job once they’ve taken care of their dead and attended their wounded.’ Abigail sighed as her bloody hands fell to sit on her hips. ‘She’s strong.’ Is all she said. Clarke could hear the apprehension in her voice and knew that her mother didn’t completely believe her own words. ‘We need to leave soon.’ Clarke said as she walked out of the med-bay. 

Clarke entered the open hanger to see that the others were nearly done packing. ‘All right, we’re heading out.’ She calls. Abigail and Marcus come out of the hallway after Clarke, Indra lays on a metal stretcher that the two of them are holding. ‘Monty, Jasper. You two take Indra.’ Kane calls out and carefully passes the handles to the two boys. Kane holds Jasper back for a second. ‘I saw you in the City of Light Jasper. Why?’ Jasper hangs his head in what must be shame Kane guesses. ‘I had nowhere else to go.’ Before Kane could question him further, the sombre boy had moved to take Abigail’s end. Kane didn’t like it but he didn’t have time to question it right now.

‘Lead the way Clarke.’ Harper says as she holds her gun up, checking the tree line to see if she can see any Ice Nation hiding. Clarke walks out into the blistering sun shining down on them. She makes her way towards the gate and she and Harper work to open it, while Kane keeps watch with his rifle, Abigail’s close to Indra to make sure that she stays in a stable condition. Raven walked behind Clarke, she held a gun in her hand that looked like it belonged anywhere else. ‘Hey Raven, you alright?’ Clarke asks as she looks down on the gun that was resting just above Raven’s brace. ‘I’m surviving.’ ‘Surviving’ Clarke hated that word, she had wanted to do more but now it was all she could see that was left. 

The group headed towards the tree line, being slow and careful to not rock Indra and aggravate her injuries. They each carried a backpack full of the supplies that had been packed. Kane was first to pass through into the dense foliage that the blocked out most of the sun, closely followed by Harper. ‘Kane slow down, we need to stay close.’ Abi called out. Kane nodded, he’d managed to comb most of his hair out of his face but it was bouncing around every step he took. ‘We can’t afford to stay out in the open, cover to cover people, no chances.’ he ordered. ‘You two stay as low as you can.’ Kane commands the two carrying the stretcher. ‘I don’t like this.’ Abi whispered as her fingers readjusted themselves around the handle of the pistol Kane had given her for the fiftieth time.

Just as the words left her mouth an arrow flew right past her thigh to plant itself in the tree next to her. Clarke whirled around and opened fire on the archer before he could load another arrow. She shot him twice in the chest and he screamed in pain as he fell to the ground. ‘We need to run!’ Clarke shouted, Kane surged forward with his rifle aimed up. They made it another 100 meters before Clarke heard the rope sliding past something. She looked up at the last moment to see an Ice Nation falling onto her from a rope in the tree. Before his feet even hit the ground, Clarke fired a bullet through his shoulder and instead of bring his blades down on her, he smashed his head into a heavy log. ‘Keep moving!’ she heard Kane call out. Monty and Jasper ran past her with Abigail. Raven reached patted Clarke on the shoulder as she moved past the blonde, Clarke pulled up the rear making sure no one was left behind. Raven couldn’t maintain it and she began to drag her limp leg behind her. ‘Kane looked back to see that Raven had wrapped her arm around Clarke’s shoulder. ‘Harper look after them.’ The young girl nods and moves to the front of the group with her head constantly on the swivel as they moved swiftly through the woods.

She shoots another warrior that begins to fall from the trees and he lands with a thud on his back. ‘We’ll catch up. Get to the dropship.’ He calls out as he runs back to help Clarke and Raven. ‘Go!’ he shouts when he sees that they were moving slowly. The group turns to start running again. Kane, Clarke and Raven are hot on their heels. They are at least until two Ice Nation slam in to their backs, knocking them all to the floor, Clarke and Kane spin around to fire bullets before the Ice Nation can attack again. More warriors are chasing them, none are coming from where Abi and her group had run so Clarke told Raven. ‘Catch up to the others, we’ll hold them here.’ Raven doesn’t move. ‘Please Raven you have to run now.’ Raven hates it and Clarke can tell but she turns and runs just as Kane fires his first shot into the closest warrior. ‘We need to stay close to them!’ Clarke shouts above the gunfire. They begin to move back, the Ice Nation follows them, not giving an inch. The warriors ran between trees as they followed, Clarke and Kane were soon running out of bullets to waste, and they couldn’t tell how many of them were left. The beads of sweat dripped down there faces as their eyes darted from tree to tree. They were trying to calm themselves so that their shots would be straighter but it was no use. Slowly backwards they moved, the occasional crack of a branch made them flinch.

They heard the war like scream before they were quickly replaced by yells and shouts of pain, they saw the bodies begin to drop from behind the trees. ‘What’s happening?’ Clarke asked Kane but he looked as confused as she did. They kept their guns raised but they didn’t stop moving backwards. When the forest behind them had fallen silent they turned and silently agreed that it was time to keep moving. They turned to run in the direction of the dropship, taking the advantage while it presented itself. ‘Clarke!’ the scream came from behind them. The two whirled around with their guns raised but quickly dropped them when they saw who was standing there watching them.

Octavia stood before them with heavy bloodstained branches resting at her feet, blood also dotted her face as she walked towards them with a completely distant expression on her face. ‘Octavia!’ Clarke called out excitedly as she ran to embrace her friend. Octavia held up her hand however to stop Clarke from hugging her. ‘I’m only here for my stuff Clarke.’ She pats the bag that hangs from her shoulders. ‘I can’t stay with you anymore. I agreed to help destroy ALIE, that’s done now.’ Clarke’s eyebrows dropped as she looked saddened by Octavia. ‘Octavia, you have to come with us, we need you. Bellamy needs you.’ Octavia chuckled, ‘He has all of you.’ ‘No Octavia, he needs you. He was taken by Ice Nation.’

Octavia’s face instantly changed from one of small happiness at seeing her friend to one of anger and rage, ‘What do you mean Ice Nation has him. He was with you.’ She shouted at Clarke. ‘It was Bellamy or Indra, Indra would’ve died if we’d have left her.’ Kane said as he stepped forward, absolving Clarke of Octavia’s rage and instead accepting it onto himself. ‘Bellamy had a chance to survive on his own, Indra didn’t.’ Kane argued. Octavia’s anger begins to lessen, but now it is directed at Kane. ‘Fine.’ Is all Octavia says, before she puts her fingers in her mouth and whistles loudly, the hear the clop of the hooves on the ground and they see the onyx black mane of her horse as it gallops through the trees with grace. The horse pulls to a stop before them, huffing out air as Octavia gently pats the beast along its smooth neck. Octavia wraps the reigns around her hand and begins to stalk off into the woods in the direction of the dropship. Leaving Kane and Clarke to follow behind her, sharing uncertain looks.

Raven

Raven’s body was screaming at her, the destroyed nerves in her body were scorching hot, burning her from the inside. She didn’t know how she was meant to keep going. A quick glance behind her told her that she needed to, otherwise three heavily armed and bloodthirsty warriors would pounce on her and she would have no chance at defending herself. She fired the last of her bullets blindly, when no cry of pain came she knew she’d missed. Raven dropped the gun and began to almost hop forward as fast as she could with her good leg while letting her braced one drag behind her. Every tree that passed her became a rail as Raven almost pushed herself off each branch, anything that could move her quicker. The heavy snaps were getting louder and she could almost feel the sting of their blades. Desperately she screamed for her friends. ‘Harper! Monty! Where are you?’ Raven surged forward when she felt the sting of a blade clip her shoulder, barely deep enough to draw blood yet she knew that it was over for her. To her best effort, she crawled and dragged herself as far as she could, groaning in pain at the exertion of her leg in the awkward position. The occasional drip of blood on the ground was all she heard.

It took her a moment to realise, there was no sticks cracking under footsteps, or leaves crunching, only her heavy breath could be heard. Raven’s head shot around to look back the way she’d come. About 10 feet behind her were the Ice Nation warriors, standing perfectly still with their weapons raised and their teeth barred in anger. There were three of them covered in their white body paint, the woman at the front of them carried a short dagger that had a thin line of blood that dripped into the ground. Raven looked at them with fear but undeniable curiosity. She was completely at their mercy yet they did not take her. Only watched. ‘I’d come back this way if I were you.’ The apparent leader calls out. There is no deception in her voice, instead to Raven’s surprise there is caution. ‘I’ve seen grounder executions. Think I’ll take a hard pass.’ Raven wheezes out through chocked breathes. ‘It would be a mercy compared to what you’d face in the blood lands.’ The Warrior responds, looking past Raven into the forest behind her. ‘I’ll take my chances.’

Raven struggled to her feet and turned around away from the warriors, she didn’t know where she was going but if it was away from the blades of the Ice Nation warriors then it was good for her. After a few minutes though Raven realised there was not a single familiar thing that she could see. The last time Raven had travelled between the dropship and Arkadia had been months ago. Realising that she was completely lost, she slumped down against a smooth rock for a minute to catch her breath. ‘Monty!’ she screamed out at the top of her voice. ‘Clarke!’ she tried but there was nothing. She was alone now.

After an hour of walking Raven fell to the soft grass from exhaustion. The heat had become nearly unbearable in the cramped forest, the trees were getting closer and closer to each other, and the path had long since vanished, leaving her to have to stumble over large rocks and fallen trunks. Raven emptied the last few drops from the water bottle that hung from her pack. Resting her back against a tree as she struggled to breathe deeply. The constant ache of her leg was threatening to make her stop altogether. Raven knew that she needed to keep moving. Using a piece of fabric from her pack she wiped the heavy sheet of sweat that covered her face and neck before she found a large stick that felt firm in her hands. It wasn’t much but the difference for her was noticeable as it took some of the pressure off her nerves.

Another 20 minutes of walking and Raven still saw no signs of anything recognisable. ‘Hello!’ She shouted out into the empty woods, her voice nearly hoarse from all the shouting she’d done to no avail. Again Nothing returned her call, as if she’d expected anything else. ‘Great.’ She mumbled to herself. 

Raven didn’t notice the pair of gold eyes that watched her from within the bush, it stalked forward out of the bush, keeping itself low and causing no sound whatsoever. The animal moved from bush to tree, always making sure that it gave Raven no indication of its presence. Its strong but lean legs softly fell to the ground, not making a single noise, not even disturbing the leaves. A swift leap and the creature had climbed up onto a boulder that allowed it a perfect view of this new intruder that commanded its attention and curiosity. 

Though Raven could not see, she felt her skin tingle. She reached for her gun, empty as it was, if it was a person she could probably scare them with it. And if it wasn’t a person, her mind questioned. She sighed and shook the thought away. Raven hated being like this, alone and vulnerable. Her knuckles were white around the handle of the gun as she trudged through the grass and twigs. A few minutes and the presence she felt had not left her. Ahead of her Raven saw a breach of light breaking through the dense foliage, ‘Finally.’ She whispered, she charged forward, much to the disapproval of her leg.

When Raven squeezed through the perimeter her heart sank as it wasn’t the dropship that she saw. But rather Prison Station. ‘The Skybox?’ She whispered in surprise to herself as the massive metal structure loomed over her, reaching up towards the sky from where it had fell. ‘Better than nothing’ she muttered, honestly glad to have found anything at all in the maze of a forest. All around her she can see crushed metal, even entire cells that ripped of the main structure. The ground was littered with metal, old clothes and even personal effects of the prisoners that were once stored here. She tried her best, but Raven couldn’t stop herself from seeing the small remnants of bodies, she saw a foot sticking out from under one of the cells, and it nearly made her sick.

‘Hello! Is anyone there?’ She screams out, hoping that there were some survivors, that there was someone at all. She hadn’t heard the movement but she sure felt it when something slammed into her side. Her leg crashed into the floor and Raven cried out in pain. Raven tried to raise her gun but a hand had it pinned to her side. ‘Wait! Wait please!’ She heard a scared voice try to hush her. She still struggled trying to wrench her arm from his grip, but it was futile.

Raven managed to kick the man with her good leg and crawled away while bringing her gun up and aiming, she hoped he didn’t know it was empty. The appearance of the man Raven saw looking at her shocked her. The first thing she saw on the pale man was his guard’s uniform. The next thing she saw was the man himself, dirty and so covered in mud that she could hardly see his skin beneath. He had long black hair was just as dirty as the rest of him, un tamed and in dire need of cutting. The same could be said for his unruly beard, that hung from his face. ‘Please, listen, I was a guard please don’t shoot!’ he pleaded with her, tears forming in his eyes, ‘Why did you tackle me.’ Raven demanded, she trusted his story but he had attacked her for no reason. ‘Because you can’t let them see you.’ ‘Let who?’ Raven asked and the man sobbed and croaked out his answer, he barely spoke loud enough to hear, as if mentioning it would summon them. ‘The monsters.’

‘We need to get inside now, before they attack.’ The agile man scampered to his feet and began to run full force towards an entrance. ‘A little help would have been nice.’ Raven mutters as she pulls herself to her feet using her stick, and begins to follow him, careful to avoid the jagged bits of metal that had been torn of the station in re-entry. Once she’s inside the man jumps and grabs a metal grate fence and pulls it down over the entrance, and sealing it with a padlock. Raven can’t say she’s happy to be sealed in with this man, but if there are monsters out here like he says then this world has proven that he’s likely talking about some mutated animal. She’d rather deal with the man then a mutated animal. She follows him along the corridor, the man’s breath is shallow and he is covered in sweat, Raven wonders if he is really that scared of what’s behind the metal shutter.

‘Where is everyone else?’ Raven asks as she follows the man past rows of empty cells. ‘There were a couple hundred of us when we came down, most were prisoners, most of them didn’t make it.’ He finishes quietly. Raven could see the pain on his face. ‘Just me now.’ He says quietly. ‘I thought all the prisoners came down in the dropship.’ She continues, confused at the mention of more prisoners. ‘Not all of them, there were lots that had turned eighteen and were waiting retrials for their crimes.’ 

Raven follows him around a corner and is met with the sickly sight of red. The wall, if it could be called that anymore, was bathed in dried blood, from floor to ceiling there was no area not stained. ‘Oh my god.’ Raven feels a little sickened by the sight, but not because of the blood, she’d seen blood before. Raven was sickened by how much there was. It looks as if someone’s entire body was drained and then used to paint the wall. ‘What did this?’ Rave hushed out. ‘The first night, after we came down. Frank took watch while we slept.’ He paused. ‘We heard him scream, but, none of us came out to help him. We could hear the growls and the monster’s footsteps.’ The man couldn’t bring himself to look at the wall. ‘We all locked ourselves in a cell and didn’t come out until morning We were too scared. His body was gone, this is all that was left of him.’ Raven couldn’t imagine how the guy was feeling.

‘Do you have people?’ Raven barely hears his question. She turns to look at him, he is truly broken, there is no hope left in his eyes, they are bloodshot and red rings run around them. ‘Yes, I do.’ She says. ‘Take me with you, please, I can’t be alone anymore.’ Raven sniffles a little, everything she guesses this man has been through. Raven doubts shed loo any better if she’d been alone for so long. ‘Yes, of course. We’ve been trying to round up everyone on the ark for the past few months.’ Without warning the man throws his arms around Raven and chokes out a weak ‘Thank you.’ The hug lasts for a few seconds, in which time Raven can truly feel the hope that she’d given this new friend.

When he finally pulls himself away she asks him. ‘What’s your name?’ 

‘Jacob.’ He says, subtly trying to wipe away his tears and clean himself up. ‘I’m Raven.’ The man raises his head to look at her, ‘Raven? You mean you’re the youngest zero-g mechanic in history?’ Raven can’t help but grin a little bit at the recognition, ‘Yeah that’s me.’ She says. ‘It’s nice to meet you Jacob.’ She says.

‘We can leave tomorrow. Where are your people?’ He asks, apparently very eager to make plans. ‘That is a long story, short of it is, we were heading towards the dropship that sent the 100 down, but I got separated which is why I ended up here.’ He nods his understanding. ‘I know where the drop ship is, the computer on board monitored its decent.’ He offered, much to the delight of Raven who wasn’t very interested in hiking blindly through the woods, especially if there were to be monsters chasing them.

They continued their walk along the corridor until the came into a big open space, Raven looked up to see that the Skybox went up several stories with balconies indicating every floor. She could see the gaping holes in the walls where the cells outside had been ripped from the main structure. She followed Jacob as he started up a flight of stairs to their left. They went up five floors before they walked out into a corridor. A heavy barricade lay before them, made up of bed frames, mattresses, tables, anything she imagined wasn’t bolted to the floor. It reached from the ceiling to the floor and Raven was confused as to how they were meant to get past it. But what was more disturbing was the bite and claw marks that were visible a mile away on the closest parts of the barricade. The first mattress had a hole bigger the Raven’s body torn out of it. ‘I can go first and pull you along?’ he offers pointing at her brace to which Raven simply nods, happily taking the offered help. Jacob lowered himself to the floor and began crawl underneath the barricade. He occasionally huffed at the effort of shimmying himself underneath the barricade. Nearly a minute later and Raven heard him call out, ‘Ok, you ready?’

‘Here goes.’ Raven jokes before delicately lowering herself so that her braced leg stretched out to the side until she was flat on her stomach. The cool of the metal sent tingles across her body as she pushed her pack through with the stick. Jacob grabbed onto the stick and began to gently pull her through. Looking from side to side, Raven could see every manner of furniture, compressed in so that no space was left between, and very little left for someone to move through. She looks ahead to see that the last section of the barricade was hanging particularly low, a bookcase it seemed was sitting barely half a meter of the ground. She can see Jacob lying on his side, pulling her on the other side of the shelf.

Raven ducks her head and barely manages to fit through the space, the shelf comes flush against her back as she finally pushes herself up off the cold ground and takes a deep breath. She wasn’t used to being compressed in small spaces like that and could understand why most people avoided them. 

Jacob helped her up and they walked through the door on to the balcony. Down below Raven could see where they’d come in. Looking up and down, all she could see was shelves of cells all stacked upon each other, with the occasional hole torn out. 

‘Right well, pick a room and I’ll leave you to it.’ Raven walks along the rows considering the bare and empty rooms, most with the bunk beds torn out. She comes across one that is different from the others. ‘They’re beautiful.’ Raven says out loud as she studies all the drawings that plaster the wall, she sees drawings of the ground, there are pictures of flowers, Raven even sees a picture of a scorpion on the wall.

‘That was Clarke Griffin’s cell. She was a beautiful drawer.’ Jacob says from further down the hall. Raven spun her head around in surprise to look at him. ‘Clarke Griffin’s?’ He nods. ‘She got sent down with the 100, probably dead by now.’ He says to himself in a saddened voice. Raven smiles, ‘No she isn’t, I was with her just a few hours ago.’ It is Jacob’s turn to raise his head in surprise. ‘Really? She survived?’ Raven nodded, ‘You can’t keep her down, trust me. Do you mind if I have this one?’ Raven asks. ‘Yeah, sure. I sleep in this one, if you need anything just give us a shout.’ He says as he walks into his room.

Raven walks into the room being careful not to step on the drawing that occupies the floor. ‘I never knew she could do this.’ Raven whispers to herself. The hole in the ceiling where a window used to be allows Raven to see that there is still some sunlight out, but it is mixed with the vibrant purples and reds that burn across the sky during a sunset. Just then her stomach lets out a loud grumble. ‘Hey Jacob, don’t suppose you have anything to eat?’ She calls out. ‘I don’t usually eat for a few hours but if you want to now then sure.’ Comes the reply ‘Yeah can we, thanks?’ She calls back.

\--

The warmth of the fire they sit around is nice and comforting to Raven. The last time she’d been around a fire it had been to burn the bodies of her mentor and one of her best friends. It was nice to be around a fire with hope instead of despair as the mood.

‘Jacob, you’ve been down here for months, how come you never left? The guards had weapons, didn’t they?’ Raven asks the man opposite her before she bites into a ration bar that he’d provided her, Raven had seen the cupboard full of them that he kept in a guard’s breakroom. ‘The monsters.’ He started but couldn’t finish, Raven could tell instantly that she’d hit a nerve and was about to try something different but he started talking again before she could stop him. ‘We did try to leave, a few times. It never worked and we always lost someone. I was the only one who made it back after the last try.’ Raven dropped her head, not able to look her new friend in the eye after what he’d said. ‘It’s ok Raven. That was over a month ago, so I manage to not think about it very often.’ Raven is shocked, ‘You’ve been here for a month, alone. With monsters surrounding you.’ Jacob nods his head, ‘I actually haven’t even left this section of the Skybox since it happened, when you called out, that was the first time I’d left.’

‘So do you have a plan for how we’re going to get out tomorrow?’ Raven asks. Remembering what Jacob had asked about Raven having people, and how desperate he was to escape this prison and its new guards. ‘A few days ago I managed to clear the rubble to the armoury, tomorrow, when we leave we’ll be armed to the teeth, nothing will be able to come at us.’ Raven asks the next question having remembered how vulnerable she’d been the entire way to the Skybox, ‘These monsters, why didn’t they attack me on my way here, I mean with my leg I must look an easy target, so why not attack?’ She questions, Jacob just shrugs his shoulders. ‘Maybe they didn’t think you were a threat.’ He suggests.

‘Then why would they attack you, when you first landed?’ ‘Crashing down in a giant metal ship into its territory, I doubt it took that as a friendly sign, and now that we’re in its territory, it doesn’t want us to leave.’ Raven can’t argue with the logic. ‘I know what you’re thinking Raven, why didn’t we try to leave without any weapons?’ Raven nods at the assumption. ‘A group did, they were massacred at 20 feet. So, the way I see it, we go gun’s blazing, or we stay until we run out of ration bars.’ He says, ‘Which admittedly would be a while. But I’m tired of being alone.’ The sentence that started as a joke turned real in a snap, Raven could see the weight on this man’s shoulders, ‘You’re tired of losing people.’ Raven said. ‘I’m tired of not having people that can watch my back.’ He corrects. ‘It may sound selfish but I want to be able to sleep at night without worrying that it’ll be my last night.’

‘No, that’s fair enough. I get it.’ Raven offered as understanding. ‘I’m going to go to sleep.’ She said looking at the star-filled night sky through a massive rupture in the metal above her head. ‘Goodnight Jacob.’ ‘Goodnight Raven, sleep well.’ Jacob had a sad smile on his face. He was ready to leave, and Raven was glad that she’d be able to help him find people again.

As Raven lay her head down on the pillow, her attention turned to the drawing of a large tree that covered the wall. Raven made a mental note to ask Clarke about her drawing when they met up again. A few minutes passed and Raven still found herself enthralled with the line work of the tree, it was minimalist in style, yet even so there was so much life and detail in the roots and bark. She jerked up when the loud howls came ringing out from the woods that surrounded the skybox. They were vicious and harrowing as they pierced her body and filled her with fear. She shivered as she pulled the blanket up over herself in a futile effort to block out the fear.

Murphy

‘Alright people let’s get this moving, we don’t have all day. Let’s go, let’s go.’ Murphy stands on top of a small building, directing all the Skaikru that were previously under ALIE’s influence. Miller and Bryan were standing at the front of the crowd, their guns up, ready to defend against any Ice Nation warriors that tried to come at them. ‘John.’ Emori calls out from below him. ‘We shouldn’t be leaving this late, we won’t get very far before nightfall.’ Murphy jumps down from the building to join Emori. ‘I know but we can’t stay here, not after what we’ve done. We’d all be dead by morning.’ 

‘John, they think it was their false Heda that did this, not Skaikru.’

‘They think that Jaha, influenced Ontari into enslaving Polis. And I doubt it’s something they’d be very willing to forgive. So we need to leave now.’ Jaha is walking past the two at this moment, his hands cuffed in front of him and his head bowed in remorse. ‘If they were being controlled then why do you chain him?’ Emori asks. ‘Because I was free and chose to be lead Emori by ALIE.’ Jaha answers without raising his head. ‘I’m sorry John, I never…’ 

‘Meant for this to happen, yeah, yeah I know Jaha. You didn’t know.’ Jaha keeps walking but he gets the last word in. ‘She would have saved us, all of us John. Now Clarke has doomed us to suffer purely out of spite.’ 

‘That’s why he’s in chains Emori. He thinks he was in the right to slaughter and torture in the name of unity.’ Emori nods. ‘Come on Emori, you’re free now.’ John says as he hugs her, and she returns it tightly. ‘I took the key John, I’m sorry.’ John quietened her with a kiss. ‘I don’t care Emori. You will never have to apologise to me Emori.’ John, with Emori’s hand in his starts to walk towards the front of the convoy where Miller and Bryan were, a few of the reformed Skaikru guards were at the front and back of the convoy.

‘What are we going to do with Pike?’ Bryan asked. Murphy sighed, wondering who put him in charge. ‘Look I know you looked up to him and all, but from what I hear, he got what was coming to him. We burn his body like we do with the rest of them.’ Bryan stayed quiet, keeping his eyes peeled on the forest around them. There were less than a hundred people in the convoy so they managed to move pretty quickly. 

‘How long until we reach the dropship?’ Murphy asked. ‘If we walk for an hour before sunset, then start early in the morning, we should be there maybe mid-day tomorrow.’ Miller responded. ‘Alright, in an hour we stop. Believe me you do not want to be walking around after dark in these woods.’

‘I hope you Skaikru know how to start fires, otherwise we’ll freeze to death.’ Murphy chuckled and ran a hand back through his dirty hair but stopped when he realised that it was the hand that had held Ontari’s heart, her dried black blood still covered his fingers. ‘Don’t worry Emori, we ain’t going to freeze. Hey Miller! We’re going to have to build fires or something, and people are going to need to keep watch. Everyone stays close, no stragglers and no wanderers. If we lose you, we won’t come looking for you!’ He walks ahead so he is alone with Emori. ‘That’s a bit tough John.’

‘Whatever gets them to listen.’

After the hour had passed the convoy pulled to a stop and found a reasonably sized clearing, ‘Alright get a few fires going, we camp here tonight!’ Murphy called out to the guards. Murphy went towards the nearest tree and slumped back against it, he slid down until he sat on the dry mud at the base of the tree, his legs standing open in front of him. He brought the blood soaked hand up to his face and he began to stare at the blood. This was the blood of the woman who had cut off the heads of children, of the woman who’d clawed an innocent man’s eyes out because of advice he’d give her. It was the blood of the woman who had taken him and bent him to her will, simply for her own pleasure. 

He charged towards the river, he heard the voices call out behind him but he didn’t care. Murphy ripped his shirt off and threw it behind him, then his pants and boots. Murphy waded into the freezing water until only his shoulders sat above the surface. He shivered but he was relaxed soon enough, he was safe. He lets his head fall beneath the chilling waves, he kept his eyes open as he stared up at the moon through the ripples of the water. Murphy let the waves wash over him, cleansing him, his body, letting the essence of Ontari wash away. Or at least he wished that was what was happening, instead all he could feel was the pressure in his chest, the weight pulling him down. Murphy closed his eyes, he didn’t realise someone else had joined him in the water until he felt someone gently lift his head back above the water.

‘Murphy.’ Emori whispers, Murphy doesn’t say anything, rather he just wraps his arms around Emori and pulls her closer, ‘I’m sorry.’ He whispers. Murphy feels the slender arms of Emori close around his ribcage, he can feel her mutated hand rest gently against the small of his back. ‘Never be sorry Murphy.’ Emori whispers, ‘Not to me and especially never for the actions of another.’ Murphy pulled back to look questioningly at Emori. ‘Ontari was in the City of Light with me Murphy, I know what she did to you, and what she made you do. You have nothing to be sorry for.’

Murphy ducked his head into the crease between Emori’s neck and her shoulder and Emori just held him close, not letting him float away from her again.

Bellamy

Bellamy jumped awake when he felt the freezing shock of cold water being splashed on his head and down the back of his neck. He couldn’t see, but he could feel the scratchy material of the bag that was covering his head. ‘Where am I?’ he shouts. He struggles with the metal chains that have his hands tied above his head. The rough bark scratching against his back tells him that he’s resting against a tree. ‘Answer me!’ he shouts again. Still nothing. He can hear voices behind him, behind the tree. ‘Hey!’ He shouts. The voices continue as if they hadn’t heard him. Bellamy stays quiet to try and listen to what they’re saying. ‘What do you mean she ran into the Bloodlands? Is she insane?’, ‘What do we do now?’ ‘We wait for the rest of them to come from Polis, then we take all of them.’ Bellamy knew they were talking about the rest of his people. ‘Hey, leave them alone!’ he screamed, he tried to kick himself away from the tree. 

He stopped when he heard the crumple of leaves in front of him. ‘Who are you?’ Bellamy hears from behind him as well as the drawstring of a bow. ‘You’re king.’ Bellamy stops struggling when he hears the voice, the voice of the king of Azgeda. ‘Roan?’ Bellamy questions. The bag over his head is ripped away from his head, the blistering sun burns down. He squeezes his eyes shut, the headache he’d been ignoring till that point raged at the pressure. 

‘My king!’ there is a shout of surprise from the voices that had been behind Bellamy. He hears multiple sets of heavy boots thud towards him and Roan. Then they fall silent, as out of the corner of his eye, Bellamy watches them fall to their knees with their heads bowed. ‘My king, we saw you slain at Skaikru’s hand.’

‘Apparently not. The threat is ended, recall our forces. We will return to Azgeda’ Roan commanded. ‘My king, I ordered that all Skaikru be rounded up and executed as ordered in the case the king is killed, his killers must be brought to justice.’ The voice is coming from just out of Bellamy’s eyesight but he knew the speaker without a doubt. ‘I am not dead. There is no blood to be demanded, call off the order.’ 

‘At once my king.’ The sound of receding footsteps can be heard as Roan watches his soldiers move away to follow his commands. He now turns his attention back to Bellamy whose eyes were still adjusting to the sudden light that invaded his vision.

Bellamy was still slowly cracking his eyes open to see the man standing in front of him. ‘Bellamy.’ The man is smirking and has his arms folded. ‘I saw you get shot.’ Bellamy accuses of the king. ‘Yes, you did.’ 

‘You took the chip, they saved your life.’ Roan steps closely into Bellamy’s personal space. ‘I did what I did so that I may have the chance to protect my kingdom. I can’t do that if I’m dead.’ Bellamy winces in pain from his headache before responding, ‘You can’t do it as a slave with no free will either.’ 

‘It seems than that I had more faith in Wanheda’s abilities then you did Bellamy.’ Bellamy can feel the anger rising inside of him. ‘Why would they save you? Kane shot to kill.’ Roan sat on a fallen log opposite of Bellamy. ‘Yes he did, a very good shot. ALIE wanted Clarke scared, to make her feel alone and without support. Clearly that didn’t work out very well for ALIE.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question Roan.’ Bellamy starts slowly trying wiggle his way out of the metal cuff, if he can keep Roan talking. ‘I am the king of Azgeda, my clan has the largest army of all. What better way to defeat an army then to control their King?’ Bellamy agreed that capturing the leader of an army that size would certainly have had benefits for ALIE. ‘13 clans.’ Bellamy grunted out. ‘What?’ Roan asked. ‘Skaikru is the 13th clan Roan.’ Roan’s face remains calm and collected. ‘I was under the impression that your leader had rejected the brand of the coalition, with your own support.’ He had no argument for that, Bellamy had been in the cell with Pike when he’d been elected chancellor, because of his own actions. 

‘ALIE wanted to use you to get to your people, and you allowed her.’ Bellamy accuses trying to change the subject. Roan sighs, ‘You’re right, Bellamy. I did give into the fear of death, they refused to treat me and save my life unless I gave in and took their key. It is a shame I now have the chance to live with, but one I am thankful that I don’t have to suffer the consequences for.’

‘My king, the withdrawal order has been sent. We await your command.’

‘We leave at once then Echo.’

‘Echo!’ Bellamy shouts as new rage fills his blood, he thrashes against his restraints to try and look at the woman who was responsible for the deaths of over 30 of citizens of Farm Station. ‘Yes Bellamy.’ Echo steps into his field of vision with an expression of boredom mixed with sympathy. As if she knew this conversation were coming and now that it had, she wanted it over as soon as possible. ‘You betrayed me!’ Bellamy shouts in her face. ‘No. I never owed you loyalty Bellamy. I did my duty as ordered by my queen. No more, no less.’

‘People died because of you.’

‘And how many hundreds more have died because of you?’ Echo fires back, leaving Bellamy speechless. She leaves his sight, assuming the conversation over.

‘What about him?’ Echo asks of her king. Roan says, ‘What are his injuries?’ Roan asks.

‘Medium concussion and several broken ribs, as well as a few cuts and bruises.’ She adds cynically, clearly insensitive to the serious condition of her prisoner. ‘Bring him with us, we will treat him on the way.’

‘Why would I come with you?’ Bellamy snarls, his anger at Echo now being directed at Roan, because there was no one else. ‘Because, I want you to see that Azgeda is not your enemy, not anymore. You may not have ever met my mother Bellamy, but allow me to assure you that her and I have vastly different methods of diplomacy.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘All I ask is for a few days. Then you may return home to your own clan, with all hostilities laid to rest.’

‘Do I have a choice in this?’ Bellamy questions. The anger beginning to leave him now, the glimmer of hope that their two peoples might cease to be enemies was certainly enticing, and having the largest clan as an ally would certainly be beneficial to Skaikru. ‘I wouldn’t be a very good host if my guests were captives.’

‘Wait Roan there is something you need to know.’

‘What is it?’

‘ALIE. She controlled the City of Light.’

‘Yes, I remember her, very cold woman.’

‘She’s gone, thanks to Clarke. But she told us that in six months every form of life on this planet would be erased, just like what happened a hundred years ago. That’s why she was collecting everyone’s minds, to store and save them.’

‘That is troubling. Do we know if she was speaking the truth?’

‘Clarke believed her, and I trust Clarke’s judgement.’

‘As do I. Well then. I assume that Clarke has a plan if she chose to destroy this ALIE?’ Roan makes his assumption with confidence.

‘I hope.’ Is all Bellamy can answer.

‘Hope, Bellamy, is sometimes, all that we have. In the meantime, let’s assume that we find a way to survive. I would still like you to come to Azgeda.’

‘Can I let the others know?’ Bellamy asks.

‘We will send a messenger once we arrive at Azgeda. I fear Echo’s brash actions may make any of my messengers appear too hostile now.’

Roan cuts at Bellamy’s restraints and they fall to the ground behind his back. He rubs his wrists where they’d been digging into his skin. His eyes shoot up to Echo and Roan places a heavy hand on Bellamy’s shoulder, having guessed Bellamy’s first idea. ‘Can I tell you something about my mother Bellamy? She instilled loyalty, but she did not command respect as easily. She was followed because she was feared. Echo bears no ill will against your people. They are just not as important to her as her own life and the lives of those she cares about. Do not blame her. My mother is dead. And so is her desire for war with Skaikru.’

‘You don’t sound saddened by your mother’s passing.’

‘Because I am not. In her final moments, she chose to denounce me as her son rather than grieve for me. You don’t know how my mother died do you?’ Roan asks.

‘No.’

‘She died at Lexa’s hand. Instead of taking my life in our duel, she speared my mother through the heart and declared me the King of Azgeda.’ Bellamy hadn’t known that the Ice Queen’s death had been at the hands of Lexa, whose people he’d helped slaughter. ‘I helped murder 300 of her people’ Bellamy stumbles a little as he is distracted by the realisation that those people truly had been there because Lexa chose Skaikru over Azgeda. ‘If she saved you’re life and made you King, you sure have a funny way of thanking her. Trying to make Ontari Commander.’ Bellamy looked ahead as Echo and two other Ice Nation warriors trekked through the forest. 

‘You misjudge me Bellamy. I would have gladly followed the rule of Lexa for the rest of my life. But she died, she died for because she tried to teach grounders a new way of life, the way of ‘Blood must not have Blood’. Lexa died because she chose to spare your people for slaughtering hers Bellamy. Many would see that as weakness, and many did.’ Bellamy can’t believe it, he’d hated Lexa for her betrayal at Mount Weather, and now he finds out that she died because not only had he murdered her people but she had died because she had chosen to let him get away with it. ‘I saw her decision as hope for a better way, Lexa was always a visionary, and she saw what we could be while trying to ignore what we were. Grounders have lived with Blood must have Blood for as long as we can remember. She asked us to abandon that lifestyle, that takes courage, and I respected her for that.’

‘Yet you when she died you still wanted Ontari to rule, instead of one of the others that Lexa had been training.’ Bellamy remembered Clarke telling him about the natblida children that Lexa had been teaching.

‘No, I wanted Azgeda to rule, the commander has always been from Trikru. The commander’s leadership only became available to other clans because of Lexa, and Azgeda deserved it more than any other, even if it had to be through Ontari.’ Bellamy snorts, ‘You really think that she would have obeyed you, Roan.’ 

‘She would have done what was best for Azgeda, just like Lexa did what was best for Skaikru, and the Coalition.’ Bellamy had nothing else to say, he’d only ever thought to see the grounders as one, yet  
now he realises that the leader of the coalition had fought and died because she’d chosen to defend Skaikru, and now Bellamy realises that they hadn’t deserved her sacrifice. ‘I’m sorry Lexa.’


	2. The Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy and Jaha have a philosophical debate.  
> Octavia and Clarke go searching for Raven.  
> Raven and Jacob make preparations to escape the Skybox.

Murphy  
The fire at the centre of the clearing blazes low underneath the early morning sky, warming everyone who lies close to it. Murphy lies on his back looking up at the stars above him and to his east seeing if he can see the sun yet. Murphy hadn’t slept very well that night, his mind still raced at everything that had happened in the last few days. He was just looking forward to getting back to Arkadia or camp Jaha as it had been when he’d left it over 3 months ago. The crunch of a boot on the ground causes him to look up at Miller standing over him. 

“He wants you Murphy.”  
The sigh was long and full of annoyance at having to waste his time on the man who had been the catalyst for so much pain that so many people had suffered. In just a few weeks, Jaha had managed to chip hundreds of Innocent people, tortured others and killed when they wanted to hold onto their freedom. Murphy began to move but the hand wrapped around his waist and the head resting on his chest said otherwise. “You don’t have to John.” Emori whispered. 

“He’ll keep asking until I do, may as well get it over with.” Emori unwound herself from Murphy and grabbed her bandana, wrapping it around her dark hair before standing above Murphy. She looked in to his eyes with a challenge, she was daring him to tell her to let him go alone. Murphy let out a tiny laugh and shook his head before he pushed himself up of the grass. Truth be told he was glad Emori would be with him when he confronted Jaha, she probably had a lot of feelings to express as well, considering everything that ALIE had made her due while she was influenced. 

Murphy walked around the fire, he reached his hand out until the small tips of the flames were almost licking his skin, the heat filled his body and it fuelled the fire of anger he had against the man who had dared to try and use the woman he loved against him.

“This way.” Murphy led her to the other side of the camp where Jaha lay on his back with his legs straight and his hand held on top his chest. He appeared to be asleep due to his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Murphy honestly can’t see a difference between Jaha now and Jaha when he’d been chipped. Murphy turned to Miller about to ask him what was going on when Jaha spoke. 

“It’s a beautiful night isn’t it John?” Murphy’s face remains neutral at Jaha’s casual attempt at conversation. “I guess.”  
Jaha sits up, his hands never move from his chest and his legs remain straight, he simply raises himself up. Murphy can’t deny it’s a little disconcerting. “Thanks to Clarke we will not have many more like it.”

Murphy lowered himself until he was squatting, allowing himself to be face to face with the man. The face that stared back was one that was devoid of any recognisable emotion, Murphy wondered if Jaha had actually left his mind behind in the City of Light. Jaha smiled, revealing his white teeth which sparkled in the low light. “I would rather live free for a few months then a slave for eternity Jaha.”

There was a flash of legitimate surprise that passed over Jaha’s features, his eyebrows creased in. He even squinted his eyes a little. It appears that he just became a lot more interested in the conversation. His hands fell into his lap, one still being held inside the other. 

“Emori, do you not remember the City of Light? Do you not remember the happiness, the lack of pain, the freedom? Do you choose to ignore how much happier you were when you were there?

“I remember there was no sadness, I do not remember any happiness. I remember there not being pain, but there was nothing else there either. And there was no freedom, only its illusion. I would choose pain over nothing Thelonious.”

Now all that can be seen on Jaha’s face is anger, silent rage coats his eyes. Murphy turned to see his lover crouching down next to him, he lets a smile pass over his own features, and he doesn't know how to describe it. Pride maybe, he doesn’t think so, but regardless he is glad to see that Emori is truly herself again.  
“Your beliefs do not negate the fact Emori. ALIE was doing what was necessary to save what little there still is of humanity. ALIE could have saved our minds for ever. Safe and” he pauses for a second, “’secure’ in the City of Light.” 

“I think the word you’re looking for is trapped Jaha. We wouldn’t have been saved Jaha, we would have been letters on a hard drive. That’s not living that’s existing. I might not have had a choice in coming down to the planet Jaha, you took that choice from me, just like you took the choice to take the key away from so many others. But I’m going to make the most of it, even if it is for six months.”

Jaha lets out a menacing laugh, he even throws his head back a little. He then lies back down, the grass folds underneath his weight. “You could have chosen the lesser of two evils Murphy, I did. And I would again. If it meant I could go for the rest of my life without feeling pain. Without remembering Wells.”

It had been so long since Murphy had even thought of Wells, the last that Murphy had thought about Wells, was when he was being hung by Bellamy for the boys murder. “That’s pain you need to feel Jaha, you sent him down here and he died because a girl watched you murder her parents. Now you feel what she felt when she looked at your son.”  
Murphy knows that what he’s saying is harsh, Jaha couldn’t have known what would happen to his son when he sent him down.   
“Pain is human Jaha. We live to avoid it, without it we wouldn’t have a point to living.”

Murphy stood up and stormed back towards the fire. When he was on the opposite side of it he dropped himself in front of it, resting his wrists on his legs as he stared into the flames, recalling the memory of having the rope wrapped around his neck, pressing down on his windpipe, cutting of his air, killing him. He remembered struggling, kicking and reaching out for anything that would get him down, anything that would save him. “I never thanked Charlotte.” He said. Emori sat down next to him and pulled his head to lean into her shoulder. “Why would you thank her? She was the reason I nearly died.”

Murphy grins and shakes his head. “And she’s also the reason I didn’t. I led the chase, I chased her right off a cliff. It’s funny, I tried to kill her for doing exactly what got me stuck on the dropship in the first place.” He looks up at Emori seeing that she’s all ears to what he has to say. She even nudges his head with her shoulder. 

“She took her vengeance. Like me when I burnt that guards quarters, she just took it out on Jaha’s son instead.” Murphy thought about how if she hadn’t nearly gotten him killed, he probably would have become very close friends with the scarred girl.  
“How long till sunrise?” Murphy asks of the approaching Miller. “20 minutes.” “Alright get everyone up, we leave at first light, we need to get there as soon as we can.” “He’s right, Ontari might have been terrible, but she was a product of her upbringing. We don’t want Ice Nation to catch us.”

“Why would they be after us?” Miller asked after he’d sent a signal to his boyfriend to start waking the camp. “They think that Skaikru killed Roan.” Emori answered. “That was   
Marcus, he’d been chipped though.”   
Miler tried to defend the man who he’d worked with to try and overthrow Pike’s dictatorship. “It doesn’t matter, they didn’t know that. And it wouldn’t matter if they did. But they don’t know Roan’s alive.”  
“Wait what?” Murphy pulled his head up to question the revelation. He’d heard that Roan had been shot straight through the heart. He looked up at Miller standing beside him, the guy looked just as surprised at the information as Murphy was. 

“How do you know Roan’s alive? Kane shot him point blank.”   
“No Kane made it look like a fatal shot. I met him in the Coty of Light before it shut down. ALIE had made him take it, she believed it would help her take over Azgeda.”  
Murphy pushed the hair back out of his eyes until it lay flat across his head.   
“We’d better hope that Roan gets back to Azgeda before they attack again. He knows about the chips, so we have to hope he doesn’t hold it against us.”   
Miller thinks out loud. Murphy nods his agreement with the man’s assessment.   
“Either way we need to keep moving everyone.” 

Miller starts to walk off but stops when Murphy calls out to him. Murphy debates his next words in his head. He knows that if they’re attacked they probably don’t have enough weapons to defend themselves. “Miller we can’t stop, we need to stay moving, and we’re already a big target.”   
“Agreed.” Miller nods to Murphy before he runs back to help with the waking of the camp. Murphy looks back towards the flames that now after a night of burning, was starting to come down to just cinders and ash. 

“Come John Murphy, tell me more about your journey’s before I met you.”   
Murphy smiled at Emori before placing a quick kiss on her lips, enjoying the contact that he could share with someone again without having a heavy collar around his neck and the chain in another’s hand. Murphy was tired of having things wrapped around his neck that allowed other people to hurt him.

Clarke

The large metal structure of the dropship soon came into view of the group of three. Marcus ran ahead, eager to see Indra and to check if she was alright after their arduous journey to reach the ship. Once Clarke was out of earshot of the two women Octavia grabbed Clarke’s arm tightly and pulled her back. Octavia’s eyes were alight with fury and Clarke knew why. Killing Pike had made her feel better, she’d had her vengeance, but that feeling had soon passed.

Pike had been Octavia’s reason to keep going, her drive to avenge Lincoln had kept her going but now that the man was dead Octavia had nothing left, and it hurt.   
“Clarke, I need to know. Is Bellamy alive?” 

Her question was simple but Clarke didn’t know how to answer because she simply didn’t know the answer. Clarke stared into Octavia’s eyes trying to ignore the blood that was splattered across her face. The blood that Octavia as of yet hadn’t bothered to try washing off.   
“I don’t know Octavia. I think so. The Ice Nation weren’t trying to kill us. They never took a fatal shot even after Kane and I shot a few of them.”   
“What would they want with us Clarke?”   
“I don’t know Octavia, the only thing I can think of is that a group saw Kane shoot Roan. Azgeda is the most ruthless of all the clans, they probably want us all dead as punishment for Roan.”  
“So what do we…” Octavia didn’t get to finish her question when Monty came running out of the dropship, his hand still rested on the point where Jasper had stabbed him under ALIE’s command. 

“Clarke!” He shouted.   
“What is it Monty?”  
“It’s Raven. She never made it here.” He gets out through heavy breath, his hand is pressed tight, must be making it hard for him to move without exerting a lot of pressure.   
“Come on Clarke, get on.”   
Octavia called out while she was climbing up on to the horse that she’d led here with them. 

“What about us? We should come to.” Monty questioned as he watched Clarke grab Octavia’s hand and be pulled up to sit behind her on the horse.   
“No Monty, I need you to stay here. Ice Nation probably knows about the dropship. You need to stay and defend it and keep a lookout for our people.” Monty is about to retort but Raven calls down to the man standing a few feet from them. “Monty, you should bury your mother. Her body’s still here. We’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”   
Clarke looks down on the boy with sorrow, she knew that Monty had been forced to kill his mother, but she hadn’t known that it had been here. Clarke thought about how she’d nearly been forced to watch her mother choke to death only a few hours before, the bruises had only just started to form around her neck. Clarke could only imagine how Monty must be feeling, he’d already lost his father to Ice Nation, and now his mother was stolen by ALIE.  
Clarke reached her hand down to rest it gently on Monty’s shoulder, she held tight to Octavia to maintain her balance. “Monty, let her rest.” 

Clarke wiped away the tear that had begun to fall down Monty’s check. She offered a comforting smile to the boy. One which he returned, but it didn’t reach his tired eyes.  
Octavia let out a cry and the horse moved off at a brisk trot along the bright green grass that had grown after the dropship had burnt the forest to a cinder when Clarke had defended it from the grounders all those months ago. She thought about how it had been simpler back then. Grounders tried to kill them for falling from the sky and the 100 trying to survive. Clarke held on tight to Octavia at the waist as she nudged the horse in the side urging it to move into a quick gallop. Clarke watched the trees whip past her, the   
branched caused her to suck a few times for fear of scratching her face. 

“Where do we look?” Octavia called back from the horse without taking her face away from the path ahead of her.   
“Between here and where you found us, she must have taken a wrong turn.”   
Clarke called back over the wind as it whipped past her, causing the girls’ hair to fly behind them. Clarke tried to focus on particular trees, seeing if any of them were familiar to her, maybe they’d have been familiar to Raven.

They rode for 2 hours until they hit a river, they hadn’t found any sign of the young mechanic, and Clarke was starting to worry for her friend. Clarke felt the cold water fill the bottom of her boots as the horse waded across the river. Clarke took the chance to massage her lower back. Clarke looked up to see that the sun was fast approaching its setting point in the west. 

“We’ll go back down on this side of the river, if she made it to the river she’d probably stay close to it.” Clarke spoke over the sound of the water splashing below her. Octavia only nodded. The horse moved up onto the shore and turned to keep cantering down the river bed.

They continued this for another half an hour before they decided it was time to head back to camp, they’d start again tomorrow at first light they agreed on. Just as Octavia was about to turn the horse around again back into the river Clarke saw something flash blue in the forest that was a bit away from the shore of the river. Clarke tapped on Octavia’s shoulder and whispered into her ear. 

“Hey I saw something flash in the forest. Do you think it could be her?”  
“Don’t call out, it could be anything. Come on get down quietly.” Octavia slowly lowered herself down to the pebbled floor, being so very careful to not cause sound when her boots landed on the pebbles. Clarke wasn’t as quiet but managed to not make very much noise besides a lone rock accidentally being kicked into the river. Octavia shot her look that asked her if she was serious, Clarke only shrugged and mouthed the word sorry.

Octavia grabbed the horse’s reigns and tied him to a nearby tree before she unsheathed her sword from where it was strapped to her back. Clarke could see in the dark that Octavia was clenching and unclenching her fingers from around her sword, making sure it felt comfortable in her hand, she was clearly ready for a fight. Clarke unsheathed her pistol and held it barrel down with her finger resting away from the trigger. She saw the blue light flash again in the distance, this time Octavia saw it as well. Whatever it was, they doubted it was Raven.

A few more seconds of quite stalking across the ground, managing to never make a sound, they approached the edge of the tree line that surrounded a very small break in the forest. In the middle of this space was a single metal pole that stood tall and painted black. At its tip was a small lightbulb, the two saw it flash blue again, then again. Clearly it was speeding up. Octavia moved forward out of the cover of the trees, her head was on a swivel, searching the trees in all directions. Clarke followed her out, she was less concerned with her surroundings however and walked towards the pole.

Before she reached it however she heard the clunk as her boot landed on something metal. Octavia’s head spun around to look at her. Octavia dropped to the ground and started to move the thin layer of dirt and leaves to reveal the metal ridges of a door. “What in the world?”  
“Clarke step back.” Octavia said and Clarke die. Octavia spent the next minute shovelling everything off of the door while Clarke watched the trees around them, cautious but curious at what they’d discovered. When the door is fully revealed Clarke takes in a deep breath of air at the image that is revealed to them. The door has been painted on with what looks like blood, the image of the planet is easily made up. Clarke recognises the American continent on it. But it’s what is on the continent that disturbs her more. While the outline is painted with blood it is clear that that the land is filled in with fire and the ocean is painted black.

“Just like ALIE said, the world will burn, the rain would turn black.” Clarke whispered, whatever was underneath this door, it had something to do with the impending meltdown that the planet and its inhabitants were facing. Sticking out from the centre of the American continent was the black pole, it was barely a few inches wide and four feet tall, but the beacon shone bright and strong. Clarke can see on top of the pole is an indentation that is an inch wide and half an inch deep, it is in the rough shape of a hexagon. But really surprises her is the symbol that is indented at the bottom.

“The symbol of the commander.” She whispers, “What?” Octavia asks, “Look, the infinity symbol, it’s the symbol of the commander.” Octavia looks confused, “What does that mean though Clarke? Are you saying the commander’s had some kind of secret underground base?” Clarke just shrugs her shoulders, she reaches into her shirt to pull out the case that contained the flame. “Clarke are you sure?” Octavia asks. Causing Clarke to sigh as she stared longingly at the chip in her hand.  
“I’m sure Octavia.” Clarke said as she gently laid the chip into the indentation. Nothing. Clarke can see Octavia’s face drop when nothing happens, Clarke sighs before she realised that maybe the flame needs to be activated for something to happen. “Ascende Superius”

Clarke watches in amazement as the beacon lights up, and stays lit. The blue light burns out through the glass that surrounds it. Clarke and Octavia jump back when they hear something release beneath them and the pole begins to retract into the ground. Clarke watches as the flame seeks into the ground, at the last second she attempts to grab it but it is too late. It slides underground and a metal plate slides across, closing it off. The sound of oxygen rushing in to the sealed of space beneath lets Clarke and Octavia know that the door is opening. They jump off just as the see it split open, the seal opens right through the globe painted above it. The planet is slowly dragged apart as a dark and empty tunnel going straight down is revealed to the two women. 

The door is fully open for a few seconds before lights start to flicker into existence on the wall down the tunnel, illuminating it. There is a metal ladder on the opposite side of the wall. Octavia walks towards the ladder and turns to face Clarke as she starts to lower herself in. “Octavia wait, we don’t know what’s down there.” “Clarke this door hasn’t been opened in years there can’t be anything down there.” 

The sound of Octavia’s boots landing on the metal rungs of the ladder echoes down the shaft. Clarke sighs and admits that Octavia is right before she too begins to lower herself. They weren’t going to find Raven tonight in the dark so it was better that they do something so that the search hasn’t been completely wasted, Clarke justifies to herself. She lowers one foot down onto the first rung and bends to wrap her hand around the cold metal of the handle. She looks down below her to see that Octavia is quickly nearing the bottom, which from where Clarke is looks incredibly small. Clarke begins to quickly follow her.

Clarke steps of the ladder. Before she turns around to stand with Octavia she sees the giant symbol of the commander again, only this time it has the words ‘Seek Higher Things’ written underneath it. “Octavia this place isn’t for the commander’s it was built by the same people that built the Polaris station. Look.”  
Octavia looks where Clarke is pointing before saying, “So what is this a bunker or something?” “I don’t know Octavia, come on nothing’s been down here in years we should be safe.

Clarke turned and started walking down a corridor, the florescent light above her kept flickering, making it hard to see what was ahead of them. Octavia pulled a short stick out of her bad before wrapping it in a cloth that looks wet. The flame bursts to life as soon as Octavia beats to stones together and the sparks catch what Clarke guessed must be an alcohol of some kind. Octavia begins to walk forward, Clarke following behind her. The hallway is eerily silent but for her footprints and it’s putting Clarke on edge, Octavia clearly is as well, her knuckles are white. They walk along the corridor for a few more seconds until they reach a metal gate. Clarke points to the padlock that is lazily resting on a chain. Octavia slams her knife into the lock, smashing it to pieces.

The sound of the metal landing on the concrete floor echoes around them and down the hall they came, and the way that they’re going. Clarke and Octavia come to a halt when they see that there is smoke running across the floor ahead of them. Clarke steps forward cautiously as she rubs her arms to try and stave of the sudden coolness that she feels coming from in front of her.

Blinding light shines down on the two women as large florescent lights begin to shine down all round them. Clarke brings her hand up to shield her eyes, after a second she cracks her fingers and she doesn’t believe what she sees.

“Oh my god.” She whispers.

Raven

The lightning cracks overhead casing Raven to jump awake. The sudden movement caused her leg to hit the metal pole that was holding up the second bunk bed. She winced in pain as she moved her leg to place it on the floor. Raven reached for her metal brace which leant against the wall beside her bed, her red jacket rested on top of it. She grabbed the jacket first and put it on. Raven let her leg fall straight as it was stretched out away from the bed. She brought the bottom of the brace underneath then closed the top segment over it and tied the straps on the side, locking it into place. She breathes a long sigh of relief once the small jolt of pain subsides and the compression begins to dull the subtle ache that’s always present.

Raven looks up through the hole in the ceiling to see that the sun is just breaching out from the east. Raven walks out of her room and towards the storage cupboard containing the ration bars. She grabs 2 and begins to walk back to where the fire was last night. She is stopped by Jacob who walks out of his cell scratching at his hairy face. Raven passes him one of the protein bars and he says, “Thanks. Good morning. You ready to get out of here.”

“Yeah, I’m ready. When do we leave?” “In an hour, we eat first then we pack a bunch of the bars into a bag then we book it as fast as we can.” Raven nods as she puts her hand on the top of a chair to lean on as she slowly lowers herself down onto it.   
“Do you need some help?” Jacob reaches out his arms as an offer for her, she takes his hand and he slowly lowers her into the chair, she smiles at him as he pushes a chair across and picks up her leg by the boot to rest it on the chair.   
“Thanks Jacob.” The boy just smiles and goes to sit opposite the fire pit in his own chair. 

The bar that she eats is crunchy but there is no flavour, the texture is rough and it scrapes her throat as she swallows it. She isn’t about to complain though, as she’d rather be eating the bar then being eaten by a monster. Raven thinks about the story Octavia had told her about almost being devoured by a massive water snake on her first day on the ground. Honestly Raven is surprised more people haven’t died by mutated animals since they hit the ground.

“What kind of weapons do we have?” “A lot of stun rods, a few assault rifles and pistols. We’ve also got a lot of body armour for when there were riots up in space. I never had to use them luckily but I heard a story about a guard that was stabbed through the heart before these were in service.” Raven cringed a tiny bit at the story, she imagines it in her head, the guard lying dead on the floor with blood pouring out of a fatal wound.

“Sorry, not really the best story for a breakfast. Being a guard on a prison in space you’d think that I would have some cool stories to share but none.” Raven smiles at the lonely boys attempt at humour. He’s obviously out of practice seeing as he hadn’t had the chance to speak to someone else in at least a month. Raven thinks that he would make a good addition to Skaikru, he seemed like the type who could handle himself. He’d survived alone and isolated while being surrounded by monsters. He deserved it if nothing more than he survived where everyone else didn’t. Raven finished the bar and moved to drag her leg off of its rest but Jacob jumped forward at the task and put her leg on the floor before helping her get to her feet. 

“Let me fill my pack with the ration bars and water bottles then we load up on guns.” Raven nodded and watched the man walk off after he picked up a long bag off the floor. Raven saw the bottles sitting on the floor underneath the crack in the ceiling. Raven bent down to pick up the first canteen, she winced in pain as she stretched her leg but she endured it, seeing that it was full she screwed on the lid, after the first she did the rest of them, they had 7 in total. Her leg was sore at the end of it but she was determined to be useful.

Jacob came back and quickly loaded all the water bottles into the bag, she could see that he’d managed to lay out a large number of bars along the flat bottom. When the bag was loaded he turned and began to walk down a hallway that Raven hadn’t been since she’d arrived at the Skybox. “Follow me, the armoury is this way.”

Along the floor in the corridor was lots of scrap metal and pieces of broken debris, Jacob had said that he’d only managed to clear a way to the armoury a few days ago. This must have been what he had to clear away. When they turned a corner she was even more surprised to see the amount of debris in the cells on either side of her. Some of the cells had caved in ceilings while others didn’t but there were full of pieces of metal the walls after the cells look like grenades had gone off in the corridor, there were holes and scorch marks everywhere. A florescent light was hanging from the ceiling and Raven had to move it out of her way as she walked. She jumped a little when the glass of the light smashed against the ground behind her. “You ok?” Jacob asks. “Yeah, I just knocked the light out of the ceiling sorry.” Jacob let out a small laugh and kept walking.

They finally reached the door and it looked like it had received the brunt of what the walls previous had taken. Raven was truly surprised that there was any door left. Chunks of it were missing, it looked as if the metal had actually been torn apart. Jacob got on his hands and knees and began to crawl through the largest hole in the door. “I’ll pass stuff through ok?” “Got it.” Raven acknowledged.

Jacob slid out a few pistols, stun sticks and two assault riffled before he climbed back out of the hole. He picked the weapons and packed some of the pistols and sticks into the bag that Raven held open. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and Raven did the same after passing him the bag. “Let’s do this.” He said with enthusiasm and excitement to finally be leaving. “Come on.” Raven smiled as she turned back the way they’d came. “Why no armour?” Raven asked. “It was designed for bullets not fangs, one of the guards was wearing she was ripped apart, we can’t afford it weighing us down if it won’t protect us from them.”

Sunlight shone through in a broken pattern as it passed through the holes in the gate that Jacob had pulled down over the entrance yesterday. He stuck his face up to the grate and turned it to both sides trying to see if there were any monsters. “Ok it looks clear.” Raven nodded and he reached down to unlock the gate and slowly slid it up.

Raven hadn’t even finished screaming before the animal had wrapped its jaw around Jacob’s throat. Her scream was doubled with his as he fell to the ground causing him to fire his rifle. It had been aimed forward so all the bullets were fired into the beast. Raven turned to run but was met with golden eyes that were staring at her and through her to her soul. She was frozen in place with fear, she couldn’t break eye contact. The animal that faced her was almost as tall as she on its four legs, its furry mane was pitch black. Raven’s heart started racing even faster when the wolf’s mouth opened and it revealed its dual rows of long razor sharp canine teeth. Raven shut her eyes in fear of the inevitable, she felt the sweat on her brow, she could feel her fear flowing through her body, the adrenaline was pumping but it was useless as her brain wouldn’t allow her to move in any way.

What she felt next was not the pain and suffering that she expected from the wolf as it closed its mouth around her neck but rather she felt the wet feeling of something gliding across the skin of her face, above her eyebrows. She whimpered in fear at the feeling before she cracked open one eye to stare into the open mouth of the wolf. She saw its long pink tongue was licking her forehead, it was tasting her. Raven was stunned when the animal closed its mouth and closed its eyes. What truly blew her mind however was when the animal leant down and began to brush Raven’s empty hand with its head. Raven felt the soft fur on the top of the wolf’s head. Raven’s hand tightened around the handle of her gun as a reflex. The wolf’s head was still under her other hand but it snarled when Raven tightened the grip on her gun.

That’s when she realised, it didn’t like the fact that she still held her gun. Her blood pumped as she reached up to the strap and began to lift it over her head. The wolf’s eyes followed her every action. She dropped it on the floor where it loudly clanged. Jacob’s empty lifeless eye’s looked up at her from where his body lay in front of her, his hands were wrapped around his throat, or rather what was left of it. He lay in a pool of his blood that was already reaching Raven’s boots, now she understood how there had been so much on the wall. “Oh my god.”

Raven felt the tears begin to fall heavily from her eyes, she hadn’t known him for long but she had like Jacob. He’d seemed like he could have truly found a new home with her group. He was lonely and he’d died looking up at the last person who he’d ever trusted. Raven began to cry as she said, “I’m so sorry Jacob. I’m so sorry. May we meet again.” She quietly cried out as she slid his eyelids closed. The rays of sunlight from outside illuminated Jacob’s body shining brightly on his now peaceful face, it made the puddle that Raven was kneeling in glow. 

Raven heard the quiet whining sound that was coming from the other wolf that Jacob’s bullets had hit. The wolf was curled up in a ball next to the dead boy, she could see the holes in its back where the bullets had gone through its body. It was still alive however, Raven could see the small movements of its lungs, trying to suck air into its dying body. The wolf that had stood next to Raven nudged a long and sharp piece of metal towards Raven. She sniffed and looked up into the wolf’s face with a tearstained face and red puffy eyes. The wolf was now standing tall over her yet Raven didn’t feel threatened by it when she knew she should be.

The sharp metal lay in the pool of blood and Raven looked desperately at the wold trying to decipher what it wanted from her. The wolf nudged the blade again and this time shook its head in the direction of the other wolf. Raven realised what it wanted. It wanted her to put the other one out of her misery. “I can’t.” She cried

The wolf’s whining got louder behind her and more tears began to fall from her eyes. She rested her hand on Jacob’s chest. He had died quickly at least she thought. “I can’t, please.” She begged the animal in front of her but again it dipped its snout to the floor and slid the jagged blade a little closer. Raven reached forward and closed her hand around the piece of metal. It felt heavy in her hand but it wasn’t the metal, it was what she was about to do with it. Raven pulled herself to her feet and started stumbling towards the   
dyeing wolf.

Raven collapsed in front of the wolf and held the metal up for it to see. Old and tired eyes looked from the blade in her hand to her own eyes. Raven saw the pain and suffering in the eyes, she saw the plea for release, the begging for the suffering to go away. The animal raised one of its paws away from its chest revealing to Raven where its heart was.

Raven turned her head to the side to see that there were about 10 other wolves waiting outside the entrance, each of them had their heads bowed and were completely silent. The one that lay dying in front of her must have been the alpha she guessed. 

“I’m sorry.”

Raven slowly pushed the sharp metal through the skin of the animal’s underside. She pushed hard and in the next instant the animal’s whining was silenced. Raven pulled her hand away to see it covered in the animal’s dark red blood, her tears started again as she leaned her head forward and started to cry. 

The howling of the wolves shocked her as her head snapped out to see all the wolves snouts aimed up at the sky. Their howls chilled her to the bone and raised the hairs on the back of her neck. They were so loud that Raven was certain that they could be heard for miles.

It went on for almost a minute but then it ended. The wolf that had nudged the blade forward walked up to her and lowered itself down until its head was resting on its front paw. Its eyes were aimed firmly at the ground in front of her. Raven stood up and saw that all the other wolves were in similar positions. They all had their heads bowed to her. Raven had no idea what they were doing, but she understood when the wolf next to her went to join the rest of the pack, they all were bowed to her, Raven for the life of her couldn’t say why but the pack had just declared her its new Alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm havin a blast writing this. The finale left me with so much motivation to create a new and better story, so that's what I aim to accomplish with this fic.
> 
> Thanks for reading  
> Bellamy will feature prominently in the next chapter.


	3. May We Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy and Roan discuss the choices he's made before Echo offers him a chance.  
> Octavia and Clarke find hope from the last person they thought they'd meet.

Bellamy

It had been hours since they’d started walking, Bellamy could tell from the amount light getting in that the sun had gone down already. His next step landed on a rock and it rolled backwards causing him to fall forward. He brought his hands up to his face to try and stop the impact. He landed hard and felt rocks underneath his body, but they were smooth, as if they’d been taken out of a river. He grunts in pain as he rolls on to his side and brings his bound hands down to rub his ribs where a rock had hit. He notices the subtle snickering coming from someone at his feet, it isn’t Roan or Echo so it must be the other person. 

“Enough, help him Axis.” Roan said but his voice wasn’t commanding but that of a friend, it was warm and light. Bellamy feels a thin arm hooking him underneath his own arm and begin to lift him, the grip wasn’t rough but rather there to help him up, not roughly pull him up like Bellamy had expected. Apparently whoever Axis was, they understood that Roan didn’t want them to hurt Bellamy. Bellamy winced in pain under his hood and his hand rested heavily on what he was sure was a bruise on his chest. 

The bottom of his hood began to roll up and he could see down that it was nearly pitch black. The next second he could see the mouthpiece of a water skin being held up to his mouth. His lips were parched and his mouth dry, but his recent trials with Luna and accepting liquids he didn’t know had left him extra cautious. “It is only water Bellamy, I promise.” Echo said.

“And why should I believe anything you say? Echo.” The woman’s name left his mouth with disdain and frank hatred. The woman who had ensured that Gina had died at Mount Weather was trying to offer him something. Just like last time she’d offered him a chance to save his people, only to lead to more dying. “I do not ever expect you to forgive me Bellamy, but Roan would prefer you made it to Azgeda without dying of dehydration. So please drink.”

Bellamy accepted the mouthpiece and the water began to pour over his dry tongue. He relished the refreshing feel of water. And the water only stopped when he’d had enough, it was never pulled away from him. “We’ll make camp here tonight. We leave at first light. I’ll start a fire.” Roan called out from behind him.

Bellamy felt hands gently wrap around his arms and began to pull him down to the ground. Clearly he was to sit while Roan worked on a fire. The hood was still pulled up around his mouth and he could feel the cool breeze that was blowing through around them. Before he could stop himself he shivered a little. “Is the bag really necessary?” He questioned.

“Is that better?” Roan asks sarcastically a second after the bag is pulled over his head. His hair flops down to partly cover his eyes. Roan was crouching in front of a pile of sticks encircled by rocks. Bellamy was sitting with his legs splayed out and his hands resting in his lap with rope wrapped around them at his wrists. Bellamy could see the back of someone heading off into the forest, they were holding a bow and an arrow in their hand. Bellamy guessed that this person going off to find their dinner was the one called Axis. Bellamy turned his head to see that Echo was kneeling down in front of the river, with a metal container in her hand she was scooping water.

“Why the bag? It’s not like people don’t know where Ice Nation is.” “The bag is there Bellamy, because I don’t trust you.” “My hands are bound Roan and I have a knife at my back.” Roan snickers as a spark between the rocks in his hands causes the kindling beneath the sticks to catch alight. “It never hurts to be cautious Bellamy. You’d know about that wouldn’t you, going to unnecessary lengths in the moment to protect yourself from something later. That’s why you murdered Lexa’s army in their sleep, right?”

Bellamy stiffened as a cold tingle ran down his spine at the mention of the massacre he’d taken part in only a few weeks ago. Bellamy tried to stop it but his mind had already travelled back to that night. He’d walked across the dry mud, the cold metal of the gun held strong within his grip as was his commitment to the notion that what he was doing was right. Bellamy kept his eyes straight as he pulled the trigger before any of the others that had accompanied him and Pike. Round after round fell from the barrel of his gun, they smouldered into the ground as the screams of dozens upon dozens of grounders were louder than the repeated bangs of the guns. The screams pierced Bellamy’s skull while they filled his ears, he could hear agony, he could hear suffering and he could hear the death that surrounded him.

They began to walk through the encampment, over the corpses and writhing bodies that littered the ground.The dry ground was soon muddy with the blood that poured from bullet wounds in their victims. There was crying and shouting, smoke and fires sprouted up from tents that had caught aflame from the fires that the grounders had been gathered around. Bellamy saw to his left, through the flames, a grounder was running as fast as she could, Bellamy fired his gun once, hitting her square in the back of the neck. If there was a scream he didn’t hear it as she crumpled to the ground where she didn’t move. Bellamy didn’t even blink as he turned back to the rest of the grounders in front of him.

The group moved forward until they came across a tent that was long and wide, Bellamy could see through the flap that there was someone trying to pull themselves up out of the bed. He locked eyes with the man, he saw the fear, the desperation, and the wordless plea for his life. Bellamy answered his plea as the others did, with bullets, they fired through the walls of the tent. Bellamy never broke eye contact with the sick man on the bed as he saw the blood explode out of his body as it became riddled with bullets. Bellamy turned around as the tent caught alight, he could feel the flames reaching high into the sky, reaching for his skin.

The kill squad soon approached the tent that housed the leaders, hundreds of bodies were laid to waste behind them, a testament to the abilities of Skaikru, and their efficiency. A small force of grounders stood with their weapons drawn in front of the entrance to the tent. Bellamy recognised the dark skinned and short haired grounder who stood at the front of the force. 

“Don’t kill the one in the centre!” Bellamy shouted. And in the next instant they unleashed their bullets that ripped through the skin and flesh of Indra’s people as they fell dead and bleeding around her. Indra let out a war cry as she charged the firing squad, her sword was held high but quickly fell as Bellamy took aim and fired a single round into her shoulder, she fell to the floor with a cry of agony as her gloved hand reached to try and cover the wound that was now spitting out blood on to the rest of her armour. Bellamy nodded to Pike and the bald man walked forward to kneel in front of the wounded grounder leader. 

“I have a message for you people grounder.” Pike reached for his pistol that rested in its holster, wrapped around his thigh. He brought the barrel up until it rested against Indra’s forehead. Slowly he cocked the gun and brought his finger to rest lightly on the finger. He was waiting for the grounder that he’d met a few days ago to say something, anything. Pike wanted an answer for why his people had been blown up by hers. When he saw that he wasn’t going to get one from her he moved his finger to pull the trigger but stopped when Bellamy called out to him. “Pike wait. Leave her alive to deliver a message.”

“You murdered our people in Mount Weather, we will not take that in silence. Tell your commander that any grounders will be shot on site if they dare to approach Arkadia again.” Pike stood up until he was tall and oppressive over Indra’s crippled form. He dropped his pistol into its holster and turned to walk back to his group to leave for Arkadia. Indra was breathing heavily, her eyes were locked on the form of the man’s back. She was wincing in pain and grunting with the exertion of keeping herself upright.

Bellamy shook himself back to the moment. He was again sitting on the smooth stones next to a river. Roan was still crouching in front of a now strong fire, except now he was looking at Bellamy with a look of expectation in his eye. “I did what I thought was right at the time Roan, I did what was right for my people. Take out the possibility of threat before it becomes one. That was the plan.” Roan’s piercing eyes stayed locked on him, Bellamy fell silent under them. “And now Bellamy?” 

Bellamy wiped away a tear with the back of his hand, he looked up at Roan with bloodshot eyes and a tearstained face, the boy was in pain with his memories. He was haunted by the memories of atrocity at his hand, he had held death in his palms and had let it rain down on innocents. He’d managed to convince himself that he’d been doing the right thing, that it would protect his people in the long run, that it would keep Octavia safe. But now he knew better and it brought only pain.

“And now their screams have become my nightmares.”

“Nightmares end Bellamy.” Echo said as she brought a few containers of river water up and left them hanging off of logs that had been setup above the flame. Echo nodded to Roan who returned the gesture before getting up and walking in the direction that the other soldier Axis went. Bellamy looked up to Echo who was staring at the water containers watching for signs of boiling. Bellamy looked back down to his bound hands, he didn’t know what to think about. Did he think about his sister, who’d just murdered a man in cold blood for vengeance, did he think about the devastating news that the world was to go up in nuclear flames in only a matter of months. He didn’t know, anything was better than thinking about the blood that he’d bathed in that night.

“I never wanted to hurt the Sky people who’d taken refuge in Mount Weather Bellamy. Please know that. I was obeying the will of my queen.” Bellamy just snorts and lies down on his side facing away from echo and the fire, looking out into the darkness that is quickly enveloping their surroundings. “Nia’s will wasn’t something that you denied Bellamy. If you deny her then you sign your life away. Either I assisted in destroying Mount Weather, or my family lost their heads one by one while I was made to watch, before my own would be taken.” 

“I don’t care.” Was the only reply Bellamy felt like sharing with the woman. She’d used her connection with him to draw him away from the mountain and allow an assassin to enter the self-destruct codes. He’d heard the explosion that killed had killed 49 tormented people who’d been trying to survive the onslaught that was Ice Nation. Their freedom had been snatched away by the people he’d assured them they were safe from. He’d told them that they were safe and then allowed himself to be distracted. “After what we did for you, after what I did for you Echo, I saved you from them.” “No Bellamy you didn’t, you unlocked the cell and left me inside a prison. It was Lexa who saved me and mine, at the expense of yours.”

“You have a funny way of showing gratitude then Echo. You tried to bring a war to her doorstep.” “Roan is not the only one who would have gladly followed Lexa, Bellamy. She saved us all from the war that would have destroyed all the clans, she brought them together under one banner, united and equal. She was the leader that I would aspire to be. I mourned her death Bellamy, I hated the lust for power that Nia had, as did most of Azgeda. She ruled with fear, Lexa lead with faith.” “Do you expect me to feel sorry for you Echo? Do you expect me to suddenly forgive you for the blood that soaks your hands?” “No Bellamy I don’t!” Echo shouts at his still turned back. “I will wash my hands with their blood for the rest of my life, I only wanted you to know that I would not choose it, and I never would.”

“Well then I guess you’re better than me Echo.” Bellamy says as he closes his eyes to sleep.

“It isn’t about being better, Bellamy. It’s about getting better.”

“What do you want with me Echo? If you’re not going to kill me then why not let me return to my people?” Bellamy questioned. He was eager to get back, to make sure that everyone was still alright. He wanted to see that Indra was alright. He knew that he’d seen enough death of the grounders. “We, I want to do something for you Bellamy. I am the reason that you lead your people down the path that you took.” “And what you want to show me a better way, one of peace and diplomacy?” Bellamy asked sarcastically.

“No Bellamy. That is not something that can be taught, you’re either good at diplomacy or you’re not. I want to help you become the warrior that your burdens and responsibilities prevent you from being. You could be a champion, a hero to your people. One they look up to and admire. Like so many in the coalition did and still do with Lexa.” “And why would I want your training?” “Because I know you want to learn how to be better. And I can be the one to show you how to do that.”

“Do I have a choice?” “Of course you do Bellamy. We are not Nia’s people anymore, we do not steal people away and hold them.” Bellamy lifts his bound hands up and raised one eyebrow in a questioning gesture. Echo sliced up through the rope with a single swift knife stroke. “I only want to show you what you could be Bellamy, it is you that must see the possibility of improvement in yourself.” Bellamy remains silent as he contemplates his possibilities, either he returns to Skaikru, the same man that chose to murder and butcher out of his own pain. Or he could go with Echo to unlock the better man. 

Bellamy sighed, he knew the choice he’d made and he didn’t like that he’d made it. Clarke could look after their people better than he could, she always had and he’d always known it. Bellamy had nothing to go back to, resent and contempt from the grounders. The looks of shame and disappointment that he’d noticed from in his own home would only continue. His people would never feel safe around him knowing that he was willing and capable of actions. He wanted to be able to return to them a better man, one that didn’t only see grounder and sky person. 

He wanted to be able to see one united people, as Clarke and Octavia saw it. They only seemed to suffer that viewpoint because of his actions against it. Lincoln and Lexa had died because he’d seen the grounders as an enemy. He’d fallen into Nia’s bait and now he had a chance to prove that he could be better. 

“I don’t trust you. And I will never forgive you for what you did at Mount Weather.” She nods her understanding. Bellamy sighs before he says, “Show me how to be a warrior, a better man.”

Clarke

“What is this?” Clarke and Octavia enter into a cavernous space, the ceiling is coated with florescent lights, but the room itself is filled with pods the size of humans. Octavia moves forward with her sword in her hand, feet parting the mist that wafts through the room and rises up to their waists. Each of the pods has a small circular window, Octavia rubbed the window with the sleeve of her jacket to wipe away the fog that covers the window. Octavia lets out a small squeak of sound and her sword drops to the ground as her hands come up to hold the window. Her voice is a mere whimper, barely audible, but in the vast silent space that surrounds them, it echoes. “Lincoln.”

“Lincoln!” Octavia shouts out, she slams her hand against the window but it holds strong. Clarke grabs her hand to stop her from breaking her hand. While the brunette starts to search all over the pod for a release Clarke steps forward and looks in through the glass. The man has his eyes closed, he looks peaceful she thinks. The last time she’d seen him was when he’d been dragged off after Lexa had saved her own people at the mountain, at the expense of Skaikru. Lincoln had tried to stay and fight with them, with Octavia. Clarke had stood and watched as his body had burned at Arkadia, she had seen the pain and heartbreak in Octavia’s features. She could feel it, she shared it.

“Lincoln. Please I’m here, come back to me. Gyon op nodotaim. ” Octavia whispers to the glass window, Octavia’s eyes are locked onto the unconscious man. Clarke can see hope in Octavia’s eyes, Clarke knows that Octavia had to watch Lincoln die, Octavia had watched his dead body fall into a puddle of mud as his hands and knees were tied. She was so close to having him back now, but she still couldn’t reach him. 

“Clarke Griffin.” Clarke spun around at the voice raising her gun to take aim at the source of the voice. Standing there in a black skinsuit was the last thing that Clarke had wanted to see after escaping the City of Light. “ALIE.” Clarke whispered, “No not ALIE, Clarke. Becca.”

Becca has her hands at her sides, her hair is the same as Clarke saw in the City of Light, it was tied back into a pony tail, not like ALIE. Clarke hesitated a little, dropping her gun slightly before pushing it back up in defiance, Octavia was still trying to wake Lincoln, trying to reach him through the glass. “How are you here, you would have died decades ago.” “My work wasn’t finished Clarke.”

“What work Becca? You finished ALIE 2, it helped me destroy the City of Light, and ALIE 1. What else could you have to do?” “I had to fix my mistakes Clarke, I helped to destroy ALIE yes, but now I have to do everything in my power to reverse the atrocity she wrought out of my misguidance.” Clarke slowly lowers her gun to her side but keeps it in her had rather than back in to its holster. “What are you doing here Becca? What is all this? Why do you have Lincoln?” “His name was Jeremy when I knew him on Polaris.” Becca says, more to herself rather than Clarke as she approaches the pod containing the inanimate man.

“What? When you knew him?” Becca nods. “I knew everyone here Clarke. I had to interview each and every one of them to come up to Polaris.” Clarke doesn’t say anything, she is too confused to even try to understand what Becca was talking about. “Polaris wasn’t just my workshop Clarke, and ALIE wasn’t my only project. In fact ALIE wasn’t even the main purpose of Polaris, it was just convenient for me.” “Then what was the point of it Becca?” Octavia asks, she’d turned around to face the two women however she hadn’t moved from the front of Lincoln’s pod, she held her sword in her hand. Clarke noticed the tenseness in her friend and quietly gestured to her to rest her weapon, “It’s ok Octavia, she’s not ALIE. She can’t hurt us.” Octavia lowered her weapon and received a courteous nod from Becca before she answered Octavia’s question, Octavia wasn’t completely interested, she wanted to get Lincoln out.

“The main purpose of Polaris was to create a viable option for cloning, once I’d finished with the programming of the ALIE 2 AI, I was to help develop a technology that would allow for the quick recolonization of the planet once the radiation levels had reduced. I was supposed to have decades up in space, but I trust you know how that worked out for us.” Clarke and Octavia nod their understanding, Clarke had moved to stand next to Octavia who was still guarding Lincoln. “I had to abandon the cloning program when I came down to the surface.”

“How have you done all this Becca? Where did they all come from?” Clarke questions, pointing to the numerous pods behind her. “Who are they?” “They were the templates that all the clones would be based on. I interviewed thousands of potential candidates Clarke, only a few hundred could fit on Polaris. I gave those people hope that they could be the ones who would bring about the rehabilitation of the world, only so they could be blown up by the other stations as a message of power.”

“Then how are they here, if they were blown up?” Octavia asks. “Polaris fell to earth after its destruction, most of it burnt up in the atmosphere, but the ‘Genesis’ safe survived the crash. That’s what this whole project was called, Genesis.” Clarke is getting a little impatient at how long Becca is taking to explain, “What was in the safe Becca?” She asks, making the annoyance clear in her tone and Becca must have heard it. “The safe held physical DNA samples of all 216 crew members of Polaris. I spent my first year here searching for it and when I found it I knew that it needed to be finished, and so I found this bunker, I had these pods built. It took me 5 years to figure out how to perfect the cloning process.”

Octavia had had enough, Lincoln was right behind her, and the only thinking she could see standing between her and talking with him again was Becca, Octavia had nothing personal against Becca but she wanted Lincoln, “Becca, can you wake him?” “The man you knew in that body will not be the one that returns to you if I do as you ask.” “Then how is it possible that I love him?” Becca turned to stare right into Octavia, “Once a generation, a random sample of these patterns are distributed among the grounders, to test if the ground is ready for the full population to return to the surface, it’s only about 15 every 20 years. You fell in love with one of them, but his mind was Lincoln’s own, that mind died with the body it inhabited.” Becca lowered her head before she finished, “I am sorry Octavia, but the man called Lincoln you knew is gone.”

There was true sorrow in Becca’s voice and it was clear to Octavia that the woman meant what she said, but it wasn’t good enough. Octavia was too close to being reunited to give up now, as fresh tears started to fall. “Please Becca, I need to talk to him again. A person is who they are, he won’t remember me but he will be the same person.” Becca only nodded before turning to walk down one of the aisles of pods. “He has to be.” Octavia breathed out.

The two women followed Becca down a hallway until they reached a desk area that had several large computer screens with various numbers listed on them, next to every number was the word ‘Stable’, except for the first on the list. ‘001’, next to the number is the word ‘Awake’. Clarke looks to the left of the workbench to see a pod that is different to all the others, the front of this one has split open down the centre. Inside is a padded wall, there were cables with needles on the end that were filled with coloured liquids. Becca walked towards the computer and used her index finger to tap on the number ‘158’, “That’s strange.” Becca whispered, she had intended for Clarke and Octavia to not hear but Octavia was clinging to every word that related to Lincoln.

“What do you mean strange Becca?” Octavia demanded aggressively. Becca just sighed before she responded. “I’ve had this computer keeping tabs on the ALIE 1 code. The computer woke me yesterday when the killswitch was pulled. Thank you for that Clarke.” She turned to nod at Clarke with genuine gratitude, “Anyway, every mind that was inside ALIE’s programming was unique, and matched to a particular body. There’s a mind in the code that relates to the body of Lincoln. Did he enter the City of Light Octavia?” 

Confusion overcomes Octavia as she tries to remember Lincoln ever seeming off or like a person would when they were chipped. “No. He was in a prison, why would he take the chip?” “I don’t know Octavia but his personality is in ALIE’s code.” 

Becca seems to be expecting a different reaction because when she turns around with a smile stretching from cheek to cheek only to see Octavia’s frown and obvious she becomes obviously confused. “Octavia this is a good thing.” Becca walks right up to Octavia and gently grasps Octavia’s unarmed hand, Octavia looks up at the unexpected contact there is surprise and hope in her eyes. “It means that his mind isn’t gone, Lincoln can come back to you Octavia.” Octavia’s mouth fell slightly agape at the words, she turned and sprinted down the aisle to where his pod was. “Do it Becca!” She shouted behind her.

Becca still with a smile on her face turned back to the computer screen and began to type into a keyboard that appeared. Clarke thought that now that Octavia had left was the time to ask. “You know about the nuclear power plants don’t you Becca?” Becca slowed down the slightest bit and her smile lessened a bit. “Yes Clarke, I do. I also know that there is no way to stop the meltdowns.” “What do we do about it then? ALIE said that they would make the earth completely inhabitable for life. This isn’t an enemy that we can fight Becca.” Becca’s tone had lost the excitement that had been present when she’d provided Octavia with hope that her love wasn’t dead. “You’re right Clarke. But we have time, that’s more than the world had last time, and we managed to survive.” Becca turned to pay Clarke her full attention. “We will survive again Clarke, I promise you that. I will not let ALIE’s desire for blood be the cause of humanity’s second extinction.”

Clarke and Becca understood each other on this fact and Clarke showed this understanding by saying, “Get him out of there Becca, Octavia doesn’t deserve to live her life without him.” “And what do you deserve Clarke?” Clarke’s mind drifted to braided brunette hair, of tanned skin and the forest that had been her the eyes of the woman who’d she never get to hold again. “We don’t all get what we want Becca. Let Octavia.” 

Clarke turned away so Becca couldn’t see the tear she cried at the memory of her Lexa. Becca saw the look in the blonde’s eyes before she’d turned away, it was one of pain and emptiness, on that Becca knew that Clark didn’t deserve to bear, not after everything she’d done. Becca was now determined to find a way to repay the woman who’d fixed the mistake that she’d allowed butcher a planet. 

She turned back to her coding to remove Lincoln from the complex coding of ALIE, the code itself seemed reluctant to release a mind and so she had to work hard to ensure that she didn’t leave piece of him behind. “Got it!” She shouted in silent celebration. “Octavia, get ready!” Becca shouted as she ran back up the aisle to where Lincoln’s pod was. Clarke ran after her, having wiped away any evidence of tears.

Becca pulled to a stop just as a sudden burst of steam and gas was released from the pod. The middle of the pod began to split down the middle and slowly fold open. Octavia appeared a statue to the eye, Clarke couldn’t even see her chest rise with breath. The door’s finally finished opening to reveal the man in simple with clothes. “Go Octavia, but remembered I just put an entire consciousness into a body that itself has never been awake. He will be disorientated.” Octavia spun her head to look at Becca before she heard a groan come from Lincoln. 

Octavia took a cautious step forward to the man. The dark brown eyes fluttered open wide, they ran around the room taking everything in. A split second he screamed in pain and fell to the cold and misty concrete, his hands ran up to hold the left side of his head. His scream was chilling to the bone and it was hard to listen to. Octavia dropped to the man’s side and pulled his head into her lap. “What’s happening?” She screamed up at the two women who were at a struggle to do something. Becca looked deep in thought for a second before she asked, “How did he die Octavia?” Octavia’s eyes widened in understanding. “He was shot in the side of the head. “Wait here.” Becca shouted before she turned and started running in the opposite direction. 

A few seconds later she returned with a tube in her hand which she jabbed in the writing, screaming man’s neck. Lincoln fell silent as his eyes closed, Becca fell back to sit on the cold floor, breathing a sigh of relief. Octavia whimpered a little bit, it was obvious that seeing him in pain was just as painful to her. “What’s wrong with him?” She asked in a cracked voice. “He’s still feeling the pain and shock of his death. It should pass.” Becca answered. “Help me get him to the med bay, before he wakes again.” 

Clarke took the muscled man’s legs while Becca and Octavia took his arms, it took them a few seconds but eventually they managed to carry him until they laid him down on a fabric covered medical table. They all huffed with effort as they gently lowered him down. As soon as he was lying down Octavia was looking over him, she gently ran her hand back over his bald head, she touch with tender gentle love. Clarke went to the back of the room to grab a chair and slid it behind Octavia for her to sit in. “I have to check on a few things if you two will excuse me.” Clarke nodded to Becca and the woman left.

“Lincoln.” Octavia whispered lovingly, Clarke was happy to finally see the look of happiness and relief on Octavia’s face. Clarke hadn’t seen it in months, and she had missed it on her friend. Clarke pulled up her own chair and laid her head back, it had been a long day for her, being chased by Ice Nation, searching for Raven, finding this place. Clarke quickly falling asleep, knowing she was in good company.

\--

“Clarke! Wake up.” Octavia shakes her friend awake. “Becca is calling for you.” “Thanks Octavia.” Clarke gets up and walks out of the room back into the pod filled cavern. She heads towards the work bench where she guessed that Becca would be. As she passes the table she sees that Lincoln is still unconscious.

“Clarke, I thought you might like this back.” Becca offers Clarke the small clear chip to Clarke in an outstretched arm. “Thank you Becca.” Clarke whispers as she takes the case out of her shirt and gently places the flame back into its cushioned resting place. “You’ve taken very good care of that Clarke. Better than the Flamekeeper that I left behind when I retreated down here.”

“It is…” She pauses, “It’s very special to me Becca.”

“Why did you come down here Becca?” Clarke asks trying to change the subject, until Lincoln wakes up, it’s unlikely that they’ll be leaving this place. “I came down here Clarke because I needed to finish Genesis. I had and still have a duty to clean up the mess ALIE left behind Clarke. You all had your ark up in space to protect you from ALIE’s flood, well this is my Ark. I had to find the way to rebuild the human race." "Who were these people Becca?" "They were volunteers from army's around the world, the bravest and finest warriors you'd ever need. Genesis was originally a last resort, if the human rave ever became so irreparably destroyed, Genesis was a fail-safe to ensure that humanity always survived. I thought any hope of that was gone when the ark blew Polaris and all the Genesis volunteers out of the sky."

"I thought Genesis had been destroyed, and then the safe fell to the ground and I got my second chance to repair some of the damage of my mistake. That’s why I programmed the trials, to determine if the world is ready for full re-establishment. Every 20 years, I send out 30 random templates, 10 leaders, and 20 warriors. They’re what I call them anyway.” “What’s the difference?” Clarke asks. “During the interviews one of my jobs was to determine the best role a candidate could perform, The leaders are the one's that they carry the blood of the Heda, and are worthy of that which you are so protective and devoted to.” 

Clarke’s eyes widen in surprise, she turns on her heel to run, but not before she catches the smirk plastered on Becca’s face. Clarke sprints to the entrance and begins to jog down the furthest isle, at the first pod Clarke rubs away the fog, “Aden!” She shouts in excitement, Clarke moves to the next pod and recognises another natblida that was a part of the slaughter at the most recent conclave. She doesn’t recognise anyone for the rest of the aisle and runs up the next one to the same results. 

Clarke stops when she looks into the glass of one of the pods in the third aisle, she stops to catch her breath. Through the glass she sees a face that she ever wanted to see again. “Ontari” she whispers. Clarke moves on, eager to leave the presence of the woman who’d served the Ice Nation queen Clarke moved down the lane and turned up the next one again. Nothing. Clarke rubbed the two wounds in her chest that had been left behind by her mother’s unwilling torture.

Clarke didn’t hear the patter of footsteps from behind her near the end of the aisle, she didn’t hear the caught and then bated breath, she didn’t feel the eyes filled with relief and love burrow into the back of her body. She didn’t see the thin frame that was clad in a simple white t-shirt and simple pants, or the curly and wild brown hair. The only thing that Clarke hears in the silent and empty room was the simple word that carried so much tenderness, caring, and love.

“Clarke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, don't hate me
> 
> Translations:  
> Gyon op nodotaim - Get back up.  
> Natblida - Nightblood


	4. Revenance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Octavia enjoy being reunited with everything that had been stolen from them.  
> While Murphy leaves to try and find his own path, that leads him where he doesn't expect.

Lexa  
Breath. She takes a long and full one before she launches herself out of her encasement to land on her hands and knees, she snaps her eyes open to take in her surroundings. The needles that had been invading her body were ripped out and fell back against the cushion surface. The ground under her palm is rough and cold, the mist encapsulates her low form as she searches for an enemy to defend herself from in this foreign environment. There are metal boxes that surround her, each identical to her. Her hand moved to rest above her stomach, she remembered the pain that she’d felt there. She remembered the fear, not of death, that had been chasing after her for years, no she was afraid of what she would be leaving behind. The words showing how she felt but dared not say, on her deathbed she had still wasted the chance.

Keeping herself low she moves to look in through the window of one, she does not recognise the man inside. However she does notice that their clothes are the same, and she sees the needles breaching his skin in several places as they had hers. She turned her agile frame and began to stealthily stalk her way up the aisle of cages, staying low while searching for a weapon to defend herself with.

The warrior breathed deeply and slowly, letting no sound escape to reveal her presence. She turned a corner at the end to see that there were more aisle like the one she’d just escaped, she wondered how many people were trapped in these boxes. There was no distinguishable, no movement to show life, but it was the sound that drew her. The echoing sound of falling footsteps and heavy rushed breaths being quickly taken. Trained senses allowed her to trace the sound to a particularly lane, she turned down not knowing what to expect, but it was not what awaited her.

Her breath was caught in her throat, standing in the middle of the lane with her back to her was the woman that she’d recognise in any lifetime, the blonde locks that fell from the bobbing head. The warrior was scared to break the moment, like it was just an illusion or a trick that her Wanheda wasn’t standing in front of her. A quick intake of breath allowed her to murmur a single word.

“Clarke.”

\--

Clarke’s spine straightened and tensed instantly, she’d heard her name from many people throughout her life but none had every managed to say so much with it. Clarke had already lost her twice, and it had hurt, she had suffered and begged for the suffering to end, for her to come back. Clarke was too scared to turn around, that this would all be a dream, an illusion designed to hurt her, a dream that would become her nightmare if she were to turn around. 

She can see that Clarke is having trouble turning around and she knows why, walking through the mist on the cold ground towards Clarke, she reaches out with her left hand, only a step away, she is standing behind the blonde staring at her curly blonde hair and leather clad body, she gently rests her hand on Clarke’s shoulder.

Clarke can feel the contact. She realises that this is no dream, it will not shatter around her is she turns to face the woman she loved, but yet there is apprehension, twice she has lost her, Clarke cannot take that again. Clarke feels another hand ever so slightly grasp her upper arm and begin to lightly pull her around. Clarke closes her eyes. 

“Open your eyes Clarke.” The voice is soft and quiet but it is the final piece of the puzzle, the final straw. It is all Clarke needs to open her eyes and see in front of her, everything she has lost, and everything she found again. 

“Lexa.” She mouthed, barely any sound left her but it was enough as Lexa smiled with her white teeth and Clarke knows that nothing could ever take away from the beauty of that smile. Clarke had only ever seen Lexa smile like that once before, when they had been closest to one another. It was true happiness and love in one expression, it was the most breathtaking thing that Clarke had ever seen in her life.

With her own sky blue eyes locked into the forest of green in front of her, Clarke brought her hand up. With a single finger she lightly traced the strong jawline, another finger and she began to bring her hand up to cup Lexa’s face. Soon the other hand joins and Lexa’s face is held strongly but carefully in Clarke’s tired hands. The skin that she feels is soft and smooth like silk. Clarke’s heart was racing inside her chest, threatening to beat out of her chest, and she knew what her heart wanted.

Ever so slowly she began to lean her neck forward, bringing Lexa’s closer with her grip. Seconds later Clarke was finally reconnected with the wet and searing hot lips. Clarke pressed firmly against the gentle skin beneath her palms, enforcing to herself that they were real, and that they were kissing her back. Clarke closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel every aspect of Lexa, she felt her beneath her hands, she could hear the accelerated heartbeat, and she could smell the scent of the woman that had loved and respected her unconditionally. While dying and even in death these lips had spoken words to offer Clarke a home, protection, love.

Clarke had spent 3 months hating herself for how much she had still wanted these lips had spoken words of betrayal so soon after speaking of possibility and partnership, she had spent her time hating the fact that she wanted someone who had taken her trust. And then she had found them again. She had connected with them again, instead of war they spoke of trust that would never be broken again, and they had spoken promises that had been honoured to her dyeing breath. Clarke only yesterday had felt these lips on her own for what she had feared would be the last time in her life, it had taken everything in her to pull the killswitch, if she hadn’t then Lexa could have been with her for eternity. Pain had plagued her mind, she knew that it would need to be overcome. But now, now it was pain that didn’t need to be felt. Clarke was finally released of that pain.

She gently ended the case and rested her forehead against Lexa’s, Lexa returned the gesture, her eyes were also shut as she rejoiced in the feeling of being able to hold Clarke, and being held by her again. Lexa was so overcome with joy at being with Clarke again that she didn’t even try to withhold the tears that now began to cascade out of her eyes. Clarke felt wetness on her fingers and opened her eyes to see the tears streaming down Lexa’s face. With her thumbs she began to rub them away. “I thought I’d lost you forever.” Lexa let out a small chuckle before quietly saying. “Not yet Clarke.”

In the next instant Lexa feels the full force of the strongest hug she had ever felt in her life, yet she was not in pain. No, she felt nothing but warmth and comfort, and love in the arms of the only living person in the world that she had ever felt normal around, the only person that loved her and not the Heda she had been. Lexa pulled her arms up and wrapped them tight around Clarke’s middle, pulling her closer while she knelt her head into the crook of Clarke’s neck. Lexa breathed long and deeply, the scent was still the same, it was still the most beautiful thing she’d ever smelt in her life.

The two women were so engrossed with breathing in the presence of the other that they both failed to notice that they were no longer alone. “Get a room you two.”

Lincoln

Clarke had just walked out of the room to talk to Becca, Octavia was tired now and thought Clarke had the right idea to try and get some sleep. She looked down to the peaceful and sleeping form of the man she had thought of as her home, she sat down in the chair and gently rested her head just above his heart. The muscles chest she lay on acted as a firm pillow but it was what she heard that quickly allowed her to calm herself enough to get to sleep. The repetitive thumb of Lincoln’s heart rang in through her head, a constant reminder that he had made it back to her, they had met again, and now there was no force on earth that would take him from her again.

Octavia jumped back when Lincoln suddenly lurched forward, his hand’s quickly finding their way to his head, Octavia was quick to grasp his head and bring it up to face her. “Hey, hey Lincoln, look at me. I’m here.” The warm brown eyes that Octavia had fallen in love with locked onto her from and the man’s breathing soon levelled out into deep rhythmic breaths. “Octavia.” 

Octavia leaped forward to wrap him in a strong hug and lock her lips with his. The man was shocked at first but he quickly returned the gesture. The kiss was a lot less sombre this time as Lincoln had nothing that called him away, no people to give his life for, no dictator to execute him, just Octavia for him to love. “Ai hod yu in, Lincoln.” Octavia whispered as they pulled apart. 

“What happened?” Lincoln groaned, his hand was still rubbing the side of his head but the hand was now interwoven with Octavia’s fingers, Lincoln enjoyed the feeling of having her massage the place where he’d been shot. It was as if her hand were wiping away the memory, and the pain. “You came back to me Lincoln.” Octavia quickly helped him swing his legs over the side of the bench. “Just take it east Lincoln, Becca said you’d be disorientated.” “Who’s Becca?” The man asks confused by the name he’d never heard. “It’s a long story but she brought you back. She saved you.”

Octavia pulls his arm around her to rest on her shoulders as she supports him and helps him to take his first steps off of the bed. Lincoln stands tall with his hands to his side and his legs straight, he is bound by chains no longer. Octavia steps back when Lincoln nods to her, “I can stand.” He doesn’t sound completely sure of himself but Octavia knows that he would never say if he was unsure. 

He hunches over a bit as he rests a hand on the metal bench for support, it gives Octavia a chance to properly look him over, His body is virtually the same, he is as tall as she remembers and his muscled physique is just how she remembers it. But there is something missing, and it hurts Octavia to recognise it because they had been a part of who he was. She pulls the colour of his shirt aside to reveal his bare chest, “There gone.” She whispers, “Your tattoos, Lincoln.” Lincoln chuckles as he brings his hand to cup her face. “It is alright Octavia, they can be replaced.” He reaches down to hug her and she quickly falls into the embrace. The warmth and strength she feels wraps around her like a shield, like it always had. She can feel the determination and love in his arms, she had found her home again. 

“Lincoln, why were you in the City of Light?” Octavia had been trying to figure out how Becca had managed to put Lincoln back into the body, she had never thought him to be one to take Jaha’s chip. Lincoln remembers the events that led to him taking the key to the city of light.

\--

The cell was dark, there was no sun shining in through its windows, the only light came from the hall that led to the rest of Arkadia. Lincoln sat with his back straight against the metal wall. He had his eyes closed trying to get some sleep in the uncomfortable prison. Around him he could hear the laboured breaths of some of his sick people, the ones that Skaikru was refusing to treat. Then there was the groaning as some had nightmares, while others shivered in the cold. Lincoln heard the footsteps coming from the hallway before he saw anything and he stood to see who now came to look down upon him and his people.

Jaha walked menacingly into the room with his arms folded in front of him. Lincoln could see in his eyes that Jaha was different from when he’d last seen him, he bore no fear now, only confidence and determination, and Lincoln could see that the man was no longer held by any inhibitions. Lincoln’s body tensed, readying for a fight even though he knew that there likely wouldn’t be one. “What do you want Jaha?” he asks when the man says nothing. “I’m here to take away your pain.” Lincoln stared at the man with cold distrust but he didn’t say anything, letting him continue. By now the rest of the cell had woken up and was inattentively listening in on the conversation between the two men.

“All you have to do is take the key.” Jaha holds up a small chip that shines blue in the small amount of moonlight. “And you will be granted entry to the City of Light, there is no pain there.” Lincoln turned his head to see looks of desperation coming from some of his friends, he could see the pain and suffering in their eyes, the plea for a release from this pain. In others eyes he saw denial and resistance. Some of the people went back to sit at the positions they’d gotten up from. Five remained standing though at the bars, the ones who were in the most pain. “I’ll take it.” Lincoln heard one say, Jaha smiled and began to move to hand one of them a chip.

“Wait.” Lincoln called, Jaha halted and looked at him with an uncomfortable smile. “What does it do?” “It takes away all your pain Lincoln.” Lincoln maintained his protective stance over his people, “What else does it do?” “Only that my friend, it only takes your pain, it makes you happy.” The grunt of pain came from the woman that was now holding the prison bar for support to keep herself upright. “Please, I’ll take it, just take away the pain.” Jaha again moved towards her but Lincoln stopped him by reaching through the bars to grab Jaha’s arm.

Jaha didn’t react defensively but instead continued to smile at Lincoln. “Let me take it first, they will not be hurt by your chip Jaha.” Jaha only chuckles and says, “Of course Lincoln, protect your people.” Lincoln released his grip of Jaha and left his hand open, the blue chip was small in his large hand. Jaha stood back and folded his arms expectantly. Lincoln pulled his arm back through and brought the chip up to his mouth and swallowed it, there was no taste and the rather large chip was rather easy to swallow. Lincoln waited for a few seconds, not breaking his stare of the man outside.

Lincoln nodded to the people waiting next to the cell, then to Jaha who immediately moved to issue chips to them. “Will no one else take the key to the City of Light and release all burdens of pain?” Jaha called into the cell. When he saw that none would he turned and looked at Lincoln before nodding and moving through the exit and out of the room.

When Jaha was safely out of earshot he turned to face ALIE who had appeared before him. “Why did you not reveal yourself to them after they took the key?” The woman in the red dress turned with cold efficiency to reply, “Because it would give them reason no to trust you or I, right now they are in a cage, they are not currently useful but will be in the future. For now they cannot serve me, there is thus no reason for them to know about me.” Jaha only nodded not daring to question her orders.

\--

Octavia looked up into the loving brown eyes of the man she held in her arms, now she understood, he took the chip to make sure it would not be harmful to his people. “You did it for your people Lincoln.” Lincoln nodded. He was truly back Octavia thought. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face even if she’d wanted to. “Come on, I’m sure Clarke wants to see you.” Octavia says as she grasps his hand and slowly begins to lead him out of the med bay.

“What are all these?” Lincoln questions of the pods they walk past to where Octavia guesses Clarke is as Octavia couldn’t see her with Becca. “It’s a long story, but basically they’re from before the missiles fell.” Lincoln stopped to look inside one of them. “They’re asleep?” It’s a question rather than a statement. “Some sort of deep sleep, I don’t know.” 

Lincoln steps up and rests his arms on Octavia, leaning on her a little as he stumbles over his own feet every few meters. “It’s ok Lincoln, you’ll get back into it.” Octavia reassures him. They turn down the aisle and Octavia is certainly surprised at what she sees, Lincoln too but not as much. “Get a room you two.” Octavia teases the two women kissing in the middle of the aisle.

Clarke and Lexa separate and turn to face Lincoln and Octavia. “Lexa Kom Heda.” Lincoln says loudly as he bows his head to her and begins to get on his knee. “Linkon Kom Trikru. I am not Heda, you do not bow for me.” “You are my Heda Lexa. You led me with honour and dignity, I would always bow.” Lexa separates from Clarke but keeps a firm hold of the blonde’s hand as she approaches the bowing warrior. “Rise Lincoln.” Lexa says with a face as serious as the tone she says it in. However as soon as the man is standing Lexa puts her hand out, Lincoln looks at it quizzically before accepting it. “You allowed me to lead you Lincoln and it was my honour to do so.”

Lincoln decides to take the compliment and returns the small smile that the commander is offering him with a beam of his own. Lexa, still holding Clarke’s hand almost subconsciously now as if her mind needs it to register that Clarke is still there, turns to face the brunette that is standing next to her loyal warrior. “Octavia Blake.” Lexa retracts her arm from Lincoln and offers it to Octavia. “Lexa.” Octavia says a little bluntly before accepting the hand and quickly shaking it before retracting her arm. Lincoln noticed the tense moment and makes certain to remember to ask about it later. He turns to Clarke.

“Clarke Griffin!” he exclaims as he gives the smaller blonde woman a massive bear hug that she hadn’t been expecting. “It’s good to see you again Clarke. I see that Octavia isn’t the only one that sees the appeal in us grounders.” He says in a light tone, though it doesn’t stop the immense blush that fills both Clarke and Lexa’s faces. “It’s ok Heda.” He quickly continues seeing he made her uncomfortable. “I’m happy that you were able to find someone Heda. Even a ruler should not be alone.” Lexa simply nods at Lincoln’s support. She doesn’t mention the fact that he is the first of her people to actually not question her love for Clarke, and she wishes she could thank him for it.

“Well I see you’ve all been reacquainted.” Becca calls as she enters from the other end of the lane. “Who are you?” Lincoln and Lexa ask at the same time, Clarke and Octavia can’t help but stifle a chuckle. “Lincoln, Heda. I am the one that returned you to your bodies. And now I have to wake everyone else up so if you’ll excuse me.” “Wait Becca. Why would you wake them up? What about the power plants going into meltdown, they’d be safe down here.”

Becca just sighs and a wave of sadness washes over her features. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t Clarke. The generators that run this facility, they’re above ground, and they barely survived the fallout the first time. I had to rebuild them from scratch when I came down from Polaris before I even began to grow all of these people.” At the mention of growing both Lexa’s and Lincoln’s faces become extremely quizzical. “There won’t be anyone left above ground to keep them maintained, if I left them in the pods I may as well be signing their death certificates.”

“We can stay back with you Becca.” Octavia says, Clarke turns to question but sees that no matter what she says Octavia has made up her mind. “Clarke, you and Lexa take the horse back to the dropship, we’ll join you when everyone else wakes up.” “Thank you Octavia, I’d appreciate the help.” Becca says.

“We’ll see you soon Octavia. Bellamy still needs you.” “I know Clarke. But Lincoln does too. And Lexa needs you.” Octavia says before she turns to walk back to the med bay with Lincoln leaning on her. “Linkon!” Lexa calls out to her faithful warrior. “Ste yuj.” She says as she offers her hand. “Heda.” He nods and returns to Octavia and they walk away. “I’ll see you soon Clarke, Heda Lexa.” Becca respectfully nods her head before following the other two.

Clarke

Clarke still holding Lexa’s hand began to lead her towards the ladder to the surface. “My armour looks good on you Clarke. I never thought to see you in our armour.” “Titus gave it to me when he made me Fleimkepa, when he gave me you.” Clarke pulls the box out of her shirt and opens it to reveal the flame to Lexa. “It is not the right time Clarke. There will be an ascension but it must be before the eyes of my people.” Lexa suddenly stopped and her eyes went wide. “Why do you have the flame Clarke? Why was it not given to one of the night bloods?”

Clarke lowered her head at the painful memory of seeing Aden’s head held by the hair in Ontari’s hand as she sat blood-soaked on Lexa’s throne. “They were all executed, by Ontari.” Lexa’s heartbreak was painfully obvious in her eyes. “Lexa let me show you something.” Clarke takes hold of Lexa’s hand again and begins to lead her to the end row of pods. “Look Lexa.” 

Lexa walks up to the pod and her breath catches when she sees the blonde hair of her favourite pupil, the boy that had become like a younger brother to her, the boy that she had loved as a guardian. Lexa sniffled as a tear fell. “He’s alright Lexa, Becca will wake him up.” Clarke stopped speaking when the realisation hit her, Aden was gone, he had never been in the City of Light and the flame had never been in his head. All that was before them was an empty body. “What is it Clarke?”

“He won’t remember who he was. He won’t remember anything of Aden’s life.” “But I remembered mine, and Lincoln remembered his, Aden has to remember.” 

“I’m sorry Lexa, but Aden never received the flame and he never took Jaha’s key. Who he was is gone. There’s only a body now.” “No.” Lexa said in anger while crying at the loss of her pupil. “I will find a way, I will bring him back.” 

Lexa turned and faced Clarke. “What about Titus, Clarke. What happened to him?” “Murphy told me that he slit his own throat open on Roan’s blade, he refused to perform the ascension for Ontari. Murphy said his last words were ‘For Lexa.’” “He only ever did what he thought would keep me safe Clarke, you have to understand that.”

“I know Lexa.” Clarke sighed. “But he took you away, he took you away from me.” “But he also gave my spirit to you Clarke. Titus entrusted the flame to you” Clarke smiled, “I’m glad he did.” 

Clarke says before taking Lexa’s hand and moving towards the exit again. “You’ll see Aden again soon Lexa. Let’s get back to the dropship.” Clarke removed the leather jacket from her shoulders and helped Lexa slip her arms back inside. “Better?” Lexa smiled at Clarke before saying. “Yes it is. Thank you Clarke. For keeping me safe.” 

They had just reached the ladder and Clarke kissed Lexa before saying. “I am your Fleimkepa Heda. I was doing my duty.” Lexa laughs at Clarke. “Yes you were Clarke.”  
Lexa begins to climb up the ladder with Clarke following behind her. Every few minutes they leaned back to rest against the wall of the slim tunnel, keeping their legs on the rungs of the ladder. Lexa looked down to see Clarke’s face, and further to see the distance to the floor beneath them. “Are you ok Lexa?” “Yes Clarke, I’m just a little tired.” “Your new body hasn’t eaten for decades Lexa, I’m not surprised you’re hungry.

“My new body?” Lexa asks as she pulls herself up and out of the tunnel into the cold darkness of the forest. “It’s a long story, I’ll tell it once we get on the horse.” Clarke leads Lexa to the spot where Clarke had left her horse when they’d arrived, when Lexa sees the horse she quickens her pace until she can pat its head and stroke its mane. “It’s Adelaide. She was always my best horse.” The excitement in Lexa’s face is palpable at being reunited with her favourite horse. “Come on, it’s a few hours to the drop ship Lexa.” 

Lexa jumped up with surprising agility considering her body just woke up for the first time in its life. “Come on Clarke.” Lexa offers her hand down, and Clarke climbs up until she is sitting in Lexa’s lap. Lexa reaches her hands around Clarke’s waist to sit them comfortably on her thighs while she holds the reigns. Clarke rejoices the pleasure of sinking back into Lexa’s gentle embrace. The horse began to trot of towards the river with Clarke pointing in the direction of the dropship while she began to explain where Lexa’s new body had come from, about the Polaris station and how Becca was still alive.

“And that’s why you don’t have any tattoos anymore.” Clarke finished her explanation. They’d been travelling for an hour already, Clarke let out a long yawn and Lexa brought her hand up to gently brush her fingers through Clarke’s hair. “I missed you Lexa.” Clarke whispers. Lexa wraps her arms around Clarke’s body and pulls her closer, until the blonde is virtually moulded into Lexa’s front.

“I will never leave you again Clarke. Sleep now, we’ll be at the dropship soon.” Lexa whispered quietly but Clarke had already fallen asleep, her head laid back against Lexa’s chest. Lexa let out a little chuckle as she continued to gently brush through Clarke’s blonde locks. “Nothing will ever stop me from protecting you Clarke.”

\--

It was another 2 hours before Lexa and Clarke finally reached the dropship. Lexa had spent the time enjoying the presence and warmth of the body that had cuddled into her. The last time that Clarke had been asleep around Lexa was after they’d escaped the Pauna, Lexa had watched over Clarke then as well. Clarke had been further away and thus Lexa hadn’t been able to hear the small whimpers, and feel the small tugs at her close as Clarke tried to pull Lexa closer towards her in her sleep. Clarke must have been dreaming and Lexa’s presence must have made her feel more comfortable and safe.

“Wake up Clarke. We’re here.” Lexa softly cooed into the sleeping girl’s ear, trying to rouse the blonde from her sleep. Lexa was entirely unsuccessful as Clarke only burrowed herself further back into Lexa’s warm body. As Lexa was about to pass through the fence the sun began to breach over the horizon behind her. Lexa paused the horse to turn and face the rising sun. As commander there had always been one thing that she’d enjoyed doing. Every morning she had woken up early to watch and appreciate the warm, vibrant and lively reds and purples. Every morning she stood on the commander’s balcony and felt the breeze on her skin. It was her time to enjoy before her duties as the leader of the coalition of the twelve clans force her to be cold, calculating and ruthless leader.

For a few minutes she let the sun’s light engulf her and fill her with a sense of life. She knew herself to be alive again. She had been given a second chance and now she was not going to let her head deprive her heart of its desires, no more would love be weakness, it would be her strength.  
“  
Lexa!” Kane called out in surprise as he ran out of the dropship. Lexa turned the horse around and held her finger to her lips before pointing at Clarke. Kane nodded, grabbing the horses reigns and leading it to a makeshift rail. Sliding off the horse she reached up to gently slide Lexa into her arms. Kane walked up the ramp behind Lexa with shock and awe plain to see on his face. As Lexa walked Clarke leant her head into Lexa’s chest just over where the brunette’s heart was beating loud and strong. The gentle rhythm was soothing and calming as the blonde was nearly completely still aside from the shallow breathing. Abigail came out of what had become their makeshift med-bay to stand next to a dumbfounded looking Kane, a look she soon shared when the doctor saw Lexa carrying her sleeping daughter in her arms. “How the?”

Lexa approached the corner and gently and slowly fell to her knees and leant Clarke down to sleep on the steel framed bed, but when Lexa went to stand again Clarke tightened her grip on the commander, preventing Lexa from getting very far. Lexa chuckled a tiny laugh out and lay down on the small bed next to Clarke, deciding to let the sleeping girl have what she wanted. Clarke’s head was back above Lexa’s heart in the instant that Lexa’s head landed on the pillow, the sleeping girl had her leg locked around Lexa’s and her arm slid over the toned abs that hid underneath Lexa’s plain shirt. 

Lexa very nervously moved her arm up to place her hand on Clarke’s shoulder and lifted her head up to place a loving chaste kiss on to Clarke’s forehead. “Good dreams Clarke.” Lexa fell to sleep soon, enjoying the reminding weight on her chest, a reminder that the girl she loved was in her arms again. 

Murphy

“Do you really think it’s such a good idea John, so soon after what happened?” Emori asked Murphy, they had been talking since they’d left the camp a few hours ago, about how Murphy didn’t want to stick around. “These were the people who murdered my father for saving my life Emori, I may kill people, but at least I can tell when it’s right and when it’s wrong. They can’t. He can’t.” Murphy flicks his head in the general direction of Jaha who was away s behind them.

“John, you know I owe no love for Skaikru, but they’re you’re people, they are alive because of you. You should give them a chance.” Murphy wore a sullen look on his face, “You give these people a chance and they’ll float you Emori. Why do you think I never went back to them after we stole Jaha’s backpack?” Murphy turned to look at the man in chains that was trudging through the rough terrain behind them, he caught Murphy and smiled at him, it sent a tingle down Murphy’s spine that he could be so calm after the pain and devastation he’d caused.

“No we leave as soon as we can.” “Where do you want to go John, you’re not exactly a local.” Murphy smirks at the woman next to him and grabs her mutated hand in his as if there were no difference to him. “That’s why I have you Emori, you’re certainly the best tour guide I’ve ever met.” Emori returns the smirk, “I hope I’m not just a tour guide John.” She leans in and gives him a quick kiss on his lips, when she pulls away she leaves him with a wink.

“How long to the dropship Miller?” Bellamy shouts behind him. “Should be about half an hour, give or take.” The man calls back, he has his guards’ jacket wrapped around his waist, his boyfriend’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. The pale skinned boy was limping from the bullet that a chipped Kane had left in his leg. 

The half-hour passed reasonably quickly with Murphy and Emori travelling in comfortable silence, enjoying the views of the bright tree leaves. “It’ll be winter soon John. Have you ever seen snow before?” “I read about it in a textbook on the ark.” Emori laughs, “You will see John that it is a lot different than the words on a piece of paper.”

They were coming up on midday when Murphy climbed over the small ridge that brought the dropship into his sight. “Home sweet home.” Murphy sighs as he starts walking towards the place where he had once nearly had his life stolen by the boy he’d called his best friend. “Kane! You here?” Murphy shouts as he passes through the gate. Kane walked out into the warm sun, Abi is next to him. “Come on get them inside. Kane stands at the door to the dropship as the people behind him begin to pour through. The dropship is quickly overflowing with Skaikru, forcing some of them to stay outside in the sun. Murphy walked through the bottom floor of the ship looking for a spare space to rest his legs when he sees the two women sharing the bed together.

“That’s a neat trick you got there Lexa, coming back from the dead and all.” The awake woman doesn’t turn her head to face Murphy, she maintains her grace upward onto the metallic ceiling. But she does respond. “One I hope you never require John Murphy.” At the sound of Lexa’s voice Clarke begins to stir, she doesn’t open her eyes as she pulls the warm body closer. “What time is it?” “About noon Clarke.” 

The blonde jerks upright at the familiar voice that isn’t Lexa’s, she turns to see the childish smirk of someone who’d walked in on something he wasn’t supposed to. “Murphy. When did you guys get in?” “Just a few minutes ago. Murphy turns his head to see Monty, Jasper and Harper embracing their friends, the hugs being returned strongly by Brian and Miller. Murphy doesn’t try to hide the emptiness that washes over his face. He’d never been accepted or missed like the others in the group had, it only reaffirmed his belief that he had to leave, that this wasn’t where he belonged.

“Come on John.” Emori calls from the entrance to the dropship, in her hand Murphy can see a brand new bag and standing next to her is Kane and Abi. Murphy stood and started to walk over but not before Clarke could call out to him. “Where are you going Murphy?” “I’m not staying Clarke.” Clarke was standing next to him, rubbing his shoulder like a friend. “Why not?” Murphy scratched his head trying to come up with the words, “Because I don’t know where I’m supposed to be Clarke, but right now it isn’t here.” Clarke can’t say that she doesn’t understand, she’d needed her time after Mount Weather. “Be safe Murphy. May we meet again.” Murphy nodded but did not expect what came next. Clarke wrapped her arms around him tightly. He held his arms high in surprise at the contact but soon returned the hug with a person that didn’t hate him. “May we meet again Clarke.”

Murphy stopped next to Emori in front of Kane and Abi. “There’s enough in there to last you a few days Murphy, are you sure you won’t” Murphy holds his hand up to stop Kane from finishing his sentence. “I’m going Kane. I can’t be here.” Kane only nodded before offering his hand out for a handshake, one murphy takes. “May we meet again Murphy.” “May we meet again Kane.” Abi like her daughter hugged Murphy into a tight grip, the second time today that Murphy had received unexpected care from someone he hadn’t expected. “For what it’s worth Murphy, you were a great nurse.” Murphy smiles at the compliment. “May we meet again Abi.” “We will Murphy, you will always have a home with us here.” Murphy nods and turns out into the sunlight forest. 

He and Emori walk and the dropship soon falls behind them. “Are you ok John?” Emori can sense that there are a lot of thoughts going through her lover’s head. “It’s just.” He pauses, “I don’t know where I’m supposed to go now.” “Let me show you.” Murphy nods and begins to follow Emori as she turns towards the direction of the dead zone. The two do not notice the chained man that is following closely behind them.

After a few hours of walking they finally begin to see the sand dunes that Murphy so fondly remembers. “Where are we going Emori?” Murphy asks, “I never showed you my home, I think you’d like it. I grew up there with my parents before they died.” Murphy takes her hand but as he does his foot gets caught by something that’s jutting out of the ground and he falls face first into the soft but hot sand, he drags Emori down on top of him and groans when she lands heavily on him. “What the hell?”

The shinning reflection of the sun hitting something metal in the sand catches Murphy’s eye and he is soon helping Emori up. “What is it?” He asks. The sand is hot on his skin as he kneels to the ground and digs his hand into the sand next to the metal. A few seconds later and the sand launches upwards and into the soft wind as Murphy yanks a drone out of the sand.

“It’s one of ALIE’s.” Murphy recognises it from when he’d first followed Jaha into the dead zone on his philosophical adventure. The cold metal in his hand served to remind Murphy that he had survived that fiasco of an expedition and he had survived what Jaha had unleashed upon the rest of humanity. He allowed the drone to fall from his fingers to plant itself into the sand at his feet. He was not done however as he brought his foot up and slammed it down into the metal. Again and again he stomped the drone until pieces of plastic were flying out into the sand, the metal dented beneath his heavy boot. The sound of crushing metal was the only thing that could be heard aside from Murphy’s grunts of exertion.

Murphy huffed for a few seconds as he finally stopped stomping onto what little was left of the drone. Resting his hands on his knees as he met Emori’s eyes. “Better?” “Almost.” Emori turned to continue in the direction they’d been heading, but Murphy didn’t immediately follow. Taking a few steps to give him some momentum, Murphy released a scream filled with anger and rage as he punted the small scrap pile as hard as he could, so hard in fact that it easily sailed over the dune that was a few meters away. He turned to follow her and said, “Now I feel better.”

They’d been walking through the desert for an hour when suddenly the ground beneath their feet was snatched out from underneath them. The ground left his feet and Murphy screamed, reaching up to the sky for something to hold onto as he fell into the darkness. Murphy cried out in pain as he landed on a hard bricked floor, his body slammed into the ground, knocking the wind straight out of his body. He writhed on the floor for a few seconds before he opened his eyes to see the closed ones of Emori facing him.

“Emori!” He shouted out as he crawled towards her, upon closer inspection he could see a small cut had formed above her eyebrow. But she had a pulse and she was breathing. 

“Emori, come on wake up. Emori!” he called out to the unconscious girl but there was no response.

Murphy looked around him at the dark room, then above him to the hole in the ceiling that was still letting sand fall into the chamber. “Hello!” He screamed out, “She needs help please.” The desperation easily filled his voice, she didn’t look badly injured but he was worried.

A door he hadn’t seen on the other side of the room burst open and in walked a tall bald man, he had stubble coating his lower face. The rest was covered with tattoos of flames that wrapped all around his head. He was a burly man with obvious strength in the muscles that he boasted. He was a very physical presence that left Murphy with pause.

The man pulls a gun out of the back of his pants and lowers the barrel onto Murphy’s forehead, right between his eyes. “Now who might you be?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed release, Uni life has been rough.


	5. The Choices we make, and the Weight they Carry.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy deals with danger in his own way, though probably not the best way.  
> Raven deals with the repercussions of what has happened.  
> Clarke and Lexa discuss what the groups next move should be.

Murphy

“Listen, she needs help, you have to help her.” “Oh do I? Do I have to help her?” The man’s sadistic laughter rings around the hall. “No I’m not going to help her, she’s going to lie there.” Murphy snarls in anger, he can feel the heat flowing through his veins, his heart pumping with restrained wrath. He manages to keep it contained but his breathing becomes noticeably heavier. “Oh a fighter, I thought so, you look like someone who will do what they need to. That’s good, maybe you’ll survive the pits then.” Murphy’s eyes flick to side of the gun and he notices the safety trigger is flicked to on. His eyes move back to meet the dark and perverse eyes of the man holding a useless gun to his head. The man leans forward until his mouth is next to Murphy’s ear.

“Now answer my question, before I start pumping her with bullets. It won’t kill her. But it will hurt, and i'll make sure that it keeps hurting until she is screaming, until she is begging to be killed. How does that sound” He snarls into Murphy’s ear. Murphy snaps, he mightn't care what people try to do to him after everything they’ve already done, wrongfully hang him for murder, use him as a trojan horse for a virus, rape him. There was nothing else they could do to him. But he would die before they did something to Emori. Murphy hid his anger behind a smirk, he knew what was about to happen and he wanted to see this guy dead.

“I’m someone who’s shot people before.” Murphy says while standing up to face the armed man. The man with the gun raises the barrel, never letting it leaves Murphy’s head. “And from experience, I’ll tell you that guns tend to work a lot better without the safety on.” Murphy smiles as the man turns the gun slightly to see but it is enough for Murphy to smack the gun away from his head, the man doesn’t let go and is thrown off balance by the sudden move. Taking advantage of the situation Murphy slams his closed fist into the side of the man’s face, connecting strongly with the jaw. He doesn’t stop when he hears the sound of the jaw cracking and breaking. Or when he sees the whites of his eyes as they roll back into his head. Again and again he slams his fist into the bald man’s head, he feels the smashing bones beneath his knuckles, not sure if they’re his knuckles or the man’s face, and it doesn’t matter. 

He screams, “You! Will! Not! Touch! Her!” Every word is accentuated with a blow to the man, at this point his head is rolling back and forth, and there is no conscious movement as a river of blood falls from his mouth. Murphy lets out a cry of rage and anguish as he uses everything left on his last hit, he can feel it this time the bone is completely shattered, there is nothing solid left behind the man’s face.

The force of the hit brings the man leaves the man slumped on his knees with his head falling forward. Murphy brings his knee up, crushing what’s left with the force of impact. The man falls to the floor crumpled and from what Murphy can see, the lack of breathing or movement, he is dead. The blood that soaks the man’s face, that same blood that coats Murphy’s hand now splatters all over Murphy’s pants. Murphy heaves breath into his exerted lungs, “Shouldn’t have pointed a gun at me.” He groans as his wrist cries out at him, clearly something is wrong inside it. 

“John?” Emori groans out from the floor, she starts to brace herself as Murphy runs over and kneels next to her. “Hey, stay still. You hit your head.” Emori locks her eyes on the bloodied and battered face of the dead man a few feet from her. “John, what happened?”

Just as her question comes out, two more grounders enter the room both carrying assault rifles, they didn’t appear to be as naïve about the use of a safety mechanism as the last one it seemed. Murphy’s eyes flashed towards the gun at the dead man’s feat. “I wouldn’t boy.” The woman says as she raises her rifle and aims it at her head. “Check him.” She orders of the skinny tanned man with curly hair standing next to her. He returns a quick nod before slinging the rifle over his back and moving towards the body.

“He’s gone.” The man croaks out as he begins to sob and choke on his breaths. “I’m sorry Ilen.” The woman says as she kneels next to the wailing man and rests a hand on his shoulder. “You will pay for this.” He hisses at Murphy, the pale Skaikru boy standing tall and defensive in front of a now barely standing Emori.

He raised his hands in the air before saying. “He pointed a gun at me. What would you have done lady?” “I would have realised that a trap never leads to an immediate execution.” He points to the hole in the ceiling that is still shining light into most of the room. “Why would we bring you down here when we could shoot you up there?” He continues to shout at him, her sights never leave his body through her verbal barrage, Murphy is a fighter but he isn’t stupid enough to charge the distressed man with the mostly silent woman still aiming at him. “It was his first go at it. He was meant to scare you. The damn safety was on.” The crying man spits at Murphy through deep breathes.

“Hey I didn’t know, someone points something at me I’m gonna defend myself. And if you were so worried why didn’t you come in when you heard fighting?” Murphy questions in an angry tone. “Every first timer gets five minutes to break those that fall, and you killed him in three.” Anger and rage had taken over where the sadness had been on the man’s face as he lifts the crumpled body into his arms, “Take your brother Ilen, prepare his body, I’ll deal with them.” The tear and blood shot eyes of the man do not leave Murphy’s, and he can read everything. That man will stop at nothing to see Murphy’s head on a stick now.

“Ilen now!” she snaps at the man, he still doesn’t break contact. “I will break you for this.” He whispers before he turns to the door, he cradles the dead body close to his chest, scared that there is still something that could hurt the dead man.

Murphy takes his chance to properly analyse the woman in front of him, she is short but thin, and scars decorate what skin she shows, her arms and neck, even her face. There is more scared skin then there isn’t. Murphy can tell that the scars weren’t from battle though. That’s what worries Murphy, these were burn marks. A fire that strong and she survived it. There is no worse pain, and that leaves a person fearful of nothing. If you have felt hellfire bathe your skin, then what else can possibly be worse? 

“You murdered his brother boy. He will not forget that.” Murphy’s blood-soaked fist is clenched, in the silent room he can hear the faint drips of the drops that fall from his hand. “His brother was an idiot.” Murphy was never one to complicate his words. The woman nods, “Yes he was, but Ilen’s brother nonetheless, and now your punishment rests in his hands, I’d pray he show you mercy. Now follow me.” Emori’s grip on Murphy’s hand is tight as she stumbles after him, “Can you at least give her medical attention? She hit her head.” He explained.

The woman sighed, “She will be looked after.” The woman says as she bends to pick up the pistol off the ground, she stuffs it into the front of her pants. “What will you do to us?” “I don’t know boy. His brother, Ilen will decide what form of punishment you will suffer.” “For defending myself.” Murphy finished her sentence for her. “What would you do if someone murdered you’re brother?” Flashes of his dad’s empty and lifeless boy floating in space ran through Murphy’s mind, he’d looked through a window and his father’s expression of fear and pain was all he could see. The scream had haunted his dreams for months after.

“They stopped me before I burnt him alive.” Murphy whispered to answer the woman’s question. The woman’s eye’s travel to her scarred skin and then to Murphy, a different look in her eye. No longer of apathy and indifference, but now one that he finds difficult to read, he could almost confuse it for understanding. “I’m am sorry, boy. You are lucky.” Confused by her statement, Murphy turns his head a little to the side. “To have played with fire without being burned. You are lucky someone was there to stop you, and not just pull you from the wreckage.” The woman turns to leave motioning for them to follow.

Murphy’s eyes widen in realisation at what the woman said. He turns to look at Emori, she is still holding her head in her hands as if she was about to faint. On the floor where her head had been was now a blood stained rock. Murphy held Emori as he began to lead her after the woman, “You don’t seem very pissed off at us.” “On the contrary boy, I respect what you did, it was for the right reason, protection of one’s self from threats.” This woman just confuses Murphy more and more. But before he has a chance to question the woman Emori is ripped from his grasp just as two burly men grab Murphy by his arms and begin to drag him away. “Hey wait! Emori!” He screams as she is dragged of, though she is valiantly trying to ward them off, she is weak from the blood lost from her wound. She manages to scream, “John!” Before she is taken out of sight. 

Struggling against the tight grip is no use but that doesn’t stop Murphy from trying to wrench himself from their grasp as he is dragged down a thin hallway. The woman is following behind him, her face shows no distress at the situation but only calmness. “What are you doing?” He shouts at her. “I told you, she will be looked after.” Before he knows it he is being thrown back first into the wall of a cell. Groans of anguish and pain escape his mouth as he rubs his back while the rest of his limbs keep him off of the sand covered floor.

The woman drags a wooden chair until she is sitting as close as she can to the cell but still out of Murphy’s reach. Murphy leaned his back against the wall, wincing as he did so. “What do you want?” “You tried to burn a man alive for killing your brother, I can’t say I’m not curious.” The woman has her arms folded across her chest, and her eyes locked onto Murphy. She pulls the hood down from over her head to reveal patches of grey hair. Surprise is the first thing Murphy feels, he’d have guessed her age to be closer to 30, “It is easier to hide one’s age when there is no skin left to be seen.” 

“Not my brother, my father. We didn’t have enough oxygen for siblings.” “Enough oxygen?” It is the woman’s turn to be confused. “I was in the ark, before it fell anyway, we didn’t have enough oxygen for everyone but we still needed children, to continue the human race. All seems kind of pointless considering.” 

“Considering what?” “All you, grounders were already doing that.” Murphy thinks about the number of people that had been floated, all the lives that were stupidly wasted when they could have come down earlier. They didn’t know, but they never tried to find out. “Why did you try to kill a man?” “Because he was the one who threw my father into space, he murdered my father because he stole medicine for me.”

Murphy remembers the last time he’d had this conversation, with Raven, right after she’d tried to shoot him. He had deserved it for what he’d done, he wouldn’t deny that. “I haven’t stopped hurting people since.” A blank look washes over him as he realises that all he’s done since he got to the ground is hurt people. He knew, without her having to say it, he was the reason Emori had been chipped, he was the reason she had lost herself to someone else’s will, and he would never forgive himself for that. “Then you will fit in here well.” “What?”

“You will be a good fighter, if you survive your punishment.” Murphy quickly stands and rests his hands against the bars. “Why would I be a fighter for you?” “Because, it is what you were made for, you said it yourself, the only thing you do is hurt people. I will simply put that skill to use.” “And what if I say no?” Murphy challenged. The woman just laughed, “You won’t” Before she gets up, leaving the chair where it stands she turns and walks down the hall where she’d come from. “Hey Wait!” Murphy shouted but it was no use she wasn’t coming back.

“Great.”

Raven

The blazing fire in front of her provided her with no warmth, for the body lying at her feet made Raven feel nothing but the cold. She’d restarted the fire to try and feel something but it hadn’t worked. The blood that leaked out of the mangled throat of Jacob was still warm yet so cold. She didn’t know what to do with it. The pack had taken the other wolf’s body away with them to where she knew not. Only one wolf remained with her and it lay on the other side of the fire, its black coat of fir rustled in the wind. The warm yellow eyes never shifted from her, almost as if it was keeping watch over her.

Raven knew that something had to be done about Jacob, she wasn’t doing anything for him by leaving him to rot. Leaning heavily on the cargo crate she’d been sitting one Raven pulled herself to her feet. With her arms hooked underneath his Raven began to drag the lifeless corpse towards the door, the door he’d died at. Raven kept dragging him, she refused to look down when she reached the still wet pool of blood that coated the floor as if it had been painted. Not looking didn’t help her as her front foot had all her weight on it, it slipped out from underneath and she fell face-first into the deep red.

Raven felt sick to her stomach. Only an hour ago this had been pumping through her friend’s body, now it stuck to her skin, she felt like it was trying to drown her. She wouldn’t. Raven slammed her hand down splashing more blood everywhere, she would not let this blood suffocate her. She pushed herself up but fell forward again when there wasn’t any hand holds for her to grab onto. She tried again, slipped again. Raven screamed in anguish and tried again but this time there was a handhold for her to lean on, it was warm and fluffy, alive. Pushing herself up off of the wolf she leaned against the wall. “Thanks.” One word yet Raven saw the obvious swing of the wolf’s tail.

Raven reaches out her bloody hand towards the wolf, it moves towards her and tentatively licks off some of the blood. A few seconds later and her hand was near spotless. Though the rest of her body couldn’t really say the same.

Trying to lift the body again she was surprised to see the wolf lower its snout to the ground and begin to nudge it underneath the body. It kept pushing until Jacob’s body was lying on top of the wolf’s head. Raven realised that the wolf was going to carry the body. She nodded to the wolf, forgetting for a second that it isn’t a normal person. However it doesn’t seem to matter as the wolf, now standing almost as tall as she was, returned the gesture.

“Take him outside.” Raven tried to talk to the wolf, she used her arms to point out into the open ground. The wolf understood her as it began to walk, Jacob’s body bobbin up and down on the wolf’s back. 

The fire was still burning strong in the metal room. She grabbed a burning branch and pulled it out of the fire. Turning around she saw that Jacob’s body was now lying on the leafy ground. The wolf was walking out of the forest with branches in its mouth. “How the hell?” Raven questioned, the wolf just seemed to know she was going to burn the body.  
When raven walked through the empty doorway she didn’t expect it to be so chilly, though the drying blood that covered her clothes probably wasn’t doing her any favours. With one hand she held her red jacket together over her body, with the other she held the torch high, careful to keep the flame away from her body.

Raven reached the body after stepping on a few twigs and dry leaves, making a lot of noise. Before she could reach the body however, the rest of the pack of wolves broke through the tree line. They stalked forward with near no space between them. On the backs of the wolves in the middle was the body of the alpha that Raven had Mercy killed. She watched closely as they split apart, leaving just two wolves to carry the heavy body.

Surprise was the first thing that came to mind when Raven saw how careful and gentle they were being with the body as they worked together to lower it down onto the ground next to Jacob. All with the use of only their backs. The rest of the wolves joined the line that had formed behind her.

“In peace may you leave the shore.  
In love may you find the next.  
Safe passage on your travels.  
Until our final journey to the ground.  
May we meet again Jacob.”

Raven finished the words that she had heard so many times on the ark. Lowering the flames she left it against the branches that surrounded the two bodies, being careful not to cross over the boundary of rocks that the wolves had somehow known to place in order to stop the fire from spreading.

Slowly the fire began to spread along the wood before it caught on the wolf’s fur. Quickly it spread over the wolf’s body, engulfing it in flames. It took a little longer for Jacob’s body to catch but when her did, he burned quickly too. Raven though how they would rest with each other’s killer, she couldn’t say that she’d known Jacob enough to know what he’d want. But she hoped that this would be suitable.

Raven turned to enter the Skybox wreckage. She knew that the others were waiting for her at the dropship. The wolves seemed to have other ideas however, as the one that had helped Raven with Jacob’s body followed her into the metal hallways, with its head lowered to the ground it began to sniff at her metal brace, flinching when it heard the squeaking of the metal.

“I can’t walk without it.” Raven said to the wolf, it whined a little in response, as if it knew that Raven was unhappy with having to rely on the metal to stay mobile. “I tried everything, you can’t fix nerve damage.” Raven stopped dead in her tracks.

“But you can replace the nerves.” She whispered. Raven almost started running towards her bag. When she got there she started pulling and throwing everything out of it until she found what she was looking for. A key to the City of Light. “If I’m right this could be the key to me getting my leg back.”

Clarke

Murphy had just walked out of the dropship with Emori next to him. She hoped he would be alright. He’d been there for her in Polis when she’d needed it and now she would let him do what he needed. She turned to see that Lexa had gone into the medical area, Clarke followed her. 

“Heda!” She heard Indra exclaim. The Trikru warrior had started to lift herself out of the makeshift cot. “Beja Indra.” Lexa had reached out with her hands to try and keep the injured woman in the cot. “How? I returned to Polis when I heard the horn.” Lexa sat herself down on the cot next to Lexa’s legs, Clarke took her chance to walk into the room, attracting the attention of both the women. “It’s complicated Indra.” “Skygirl.” Indra nodded to Clarke.

Clarke walked up behind Lexa and rested her hand on her shoulder, Lexa turned her head to look up at Clarke’s eyes, she said nothing but Clarke could see in her eyes that Lexa didn’t know what to say to answer Indra’s question, she didn’t understand the science that allowed her to still be here. “The flame,” Clarke begins. “It not only holds the spirit of the commander, but all her memories. Lexa’s body was burnt but her mind lived on in the flame. I was only lucky enough to find her another body.” 

Clarke feels that it’s an apt description for how Lexa was alive to be with her general. “In a way, Lexa never really died. Her mind lived, and that’s who she is. That’s how she was able to keep me safe in when I went into the City of Light.” Clarke realised then that the grounders idea of reincarnation really wasn’t so far off. “I do not care how you did it Skygirl, but I owe you my gratitude for allowing me the chance to serve my Heda again. You really do command death, Mochof Wanheda.”

“Rest Indra, you must regain your strength for when we return to Polis.” “Sha Heda.” Indra respectfully says before groaning in pain as she lowers herself down to rest on the mattress. Lexa turns to face Clarke, the blonde can see sadness in her eyes but doesn’t get a chance to question it as Lexa stands and takes her hand and leads her to where Clarke’s mother and Kane are sitting. Before they reach them they’re interrupted by Miller, “Clarke, when are we going back to Arkadia, Bryan has a bullet in his leg and Abi can’t work here.” 

“We can’t go back, Ice Nation will still be looking for us, and it’s a surprise they haven’t found us yet.” “It’s because they’re not looking for us Clarke.” “Wait, how do you know Miller?” “Because they were attacking us because they thought Roan died at Kane’s, at Skaikru’s hands. But he didn’t, Emori told us he survived, she saw him while she was still in the City of Light. ALIE was going to use him to smuggle herself into Azgeda.” “Roan’s alive!” Clarke can’t contain her relief at the news. Until now she’d thought he was just another casualty in her plan, to hear that he survived made her feel a lot better.

“Yes and I’m guessing he ordered his people to stop attacking us. We were at least a hundred people, they could have easily slaughtered us out there in the open but they didn’t.” Lexa decides to give her opinion on the matter. “If no blood has been spilt by the hand of Skaikru, then none may be spilt by Azgeda for fear of war.” “Then where is Bellamy? We still don’t know where he is, we assumed that Azgeda had taken him.”

“We can check the rover on the way back to Arkadia, we’ll leave as soon as Octavia and the others get here.” “What other’s Clarke?” Miller asks, confused. Clarke just smiles and says, “You’ll see Miller.” Miller just rolls his eyes and starts to go into the med-bay behind them to sit with his boyfriend but Clarke stops him. “Miller, Raven got lost on our way hear. Octavia and I went to find her last night but we didn’t have much luck, I need you and a group to go and look again. We lost her somewhere between here and Arkadia.” Miller nods, “Monty, Jasper! With me!” Miller calls out to the two boys and turns to walk out of the dropship, “Miller we’ll meet you at Arkadia.” Miller gives a thumbs up while his group pick up weapons as they left.

They kept moving towards Clarke’s mother. “Mom when Octavia gets back we need to go back to Arkadia.” Abi didn’t respond straight away but instead her eyes were locked on the brunette girl that was standing a little behind Clarke. The blonde sees the look and realises that she never explained what happened. She’s at a loss for words, thankfully she doesn’t need them. “I was under the impression that you had died Lexa.” Abi starts. “I did Abigail Griffin, but Clarke.” Lexa hesitates. “She kept me safe long enough to find me a new body. She would not let me die so easily.” Abi’s face lights up in realisation, “You were in the flame, the chip that Clarke took.” 

Lexa’s eyes go wide at the news, she turns to Clarke with her eyes full of questions. “How did you take the Flame Clarke? You are not natblida. You should have died.” Lexa can’t contain herself with worry and she gently grabs Clarke’s face with her hands, an action that Abi can’t help but notice. “Ontari had died so I put her blood in my body, it was enough for the flame to not kill me straight away. Do you not remember saving me in the City of Light Lexa?” 

“Clarke the last time I saw you, I” Lexa doesn’t finish but Clarke knows what she means, her eyes try to convey all the understanding she has for what Lexa doesn’t want to say. Kane looks like he was about to say something but he doesn’t get the chance as just at that point Octavia walks through the door to the dropship, but Kane doesn’t believe who follows her. “Lincoln.” He shouts as he goes and hugs the friend he thought had been taken.

“Aden.” Lexa whispers when she sees the young boy walk into the ship, after Octavia. She turns to look at Clarke who only nods. Lexa walks quickly until she stands before the boy, despite herself she still becomes teary eyed at seeing the boy she loved. “Aden.” She says reaching out a hand towards his shoulder but she doesn’t touch him as he flinches away from her. He turns and runs to the nearest uninhabited area of the dropship, there he sits with his body pulled into himself as he analyses the movements of everyone else around him. Clarke thinks he’s like a scared animal looking for a way to protect itself from threats.

Lexa begins to slowly retract her hand from where she’d held it out. “Hey it’s ok,” Clarke whispers. “It will take him time to adjust, that boy doesn’t have any memories. He has nothing to rely on except instinct.” “I’ve seen this before Clarke. When Aden was first brought in by Titus he behaved as if everything was a threat that was out to get him, it was weeks before I could talk him out of his room, let alone into one of Titus’s lessons.” She sighs, “I worked with him for years, to make strength from his fears, to not let them be his weakness.”

“And now that boy is dead, this is all that remains of him.” Clarke can see the train of thought that Lexa is going down. “No Lexa look at me.” It is Clarke’s turn to gently hold Lexa’s head. “If he needed you before, then you can be who he needs again. He might never have the old memories but it doesn’t mean that Aden is lost. He only needs to be found.” Lexa offers a small smile, but it is enough for Clarke to know that she had said the right thing. “Thank you Clarke.” Lexa whispers.

“Becca!” Clarke exclaims as the woman in black walks through the door, her face is darkened in several places with bruises and cuts. “Come with me.” Clarke and Lexa take an arm each and begin to lead her to the med-bay and lie her down. Abi rushes in behind them, having heard the commotion. Abi proceeds to start checking the wounds, she motions for Clarke to keep her talking. “Becca talk to me. What happened?” Becca coughs and splatters some blood onto the bed sheet when she turns her head. She groans as she lays her head down. 

“I was going to the last pod to check on the occupant, but when I got there it was empty, I turned to see a pipe swinging for my head and the next moment Octavia is waking me up.” Becca explains. “It was Ontari.” Octavia says from the curtained entry to the med-bay. “How?” Lexa asks with sternness in her voice. “There weren’t many that had corresponding minds in the City of Light but Ontari had taken the chip, Becca didn’t know she’d be dangerous. I found her on the floor. Ontari was gone.”

“She will go to Polis, try to rally support under her. She was Heda.” Lexa states. “We must stop her before the coalition supports her.” “Lexa it’s alright, she doesn’t have the flame and she doesn’t have a Fleimkepa, they won’t support her.” “She is a Natblida Clarke, they have no one else. How long until we can go to Arkadia?” 

“We can leave as soon as we’re packed up. 20 minutes and we should be ready.” Kane responds. Lexa nods and walks out of the med-bay, Clarke hot on her heels. “Hey what’s wrong Lexa?” “She will pay for slaughtering my Natblida Clarke.” Clarke is a little surprised at the statement considering what would have happened had Ontari not killed them in their sleep. “Lexa all but one of them was going to die anyway.” “They were robbed of their honour, killed in their sleep by a week coward, I will repay her in kind.” Clarke can read the anger that is shooting through Lexa’s veins. She wants to reach out, to hold Lexa but doesn’t.

“Jus No Drein Jus Daun Heda.” Clarke says, Lexa’s head snaps up. The anger has vanished from her face. “Lexa, you must be strong. Your leadership was giving your people hope for a better future, you can’t turn you back on that now.” “I can’t just exile her Clarke, she is still worthy of the flame, people will follow her leadership. If I do not kill her then she will devote her life to becoming Heda, none of the other night bloods will be safe. I will not let her hurt them again.”

“We will find an alternative Lexa I promise, but you must set an example for your people. Be what they need to become.” Clarke cups Lexa’s head and pulls her into a hug, Lexa’s head finds its way deep into the crook between Clarke’s neck and shoulders, and Lexa stays there just breathing Clarke in. “It’s ok Lexa.” “I died Clarke. Ontari did, Lincoln did, and Aden did. Why do we get to come back?” She whispered gently. Clarke knew Lexa had been sceptical of being brought back to life but assumed it had been because she didn’t understand how, not why. “What about Gustus? Why doesn’t she get to come back, or Costia?” Lexa sniffles a tiny bit at the mention of her previous lover.

“I’m sorry Lexa. I’m so sorry.” Clarke tightens her hug, holding Lexa as close as she could. Clarke thinks of the people’s she’s lost that don’t get to come back, Wells, Maya, and Finn. She doesn’t know why only some people get a second chance, but she knows that she is forever grateful that she’s been given a second chance to love the woman she holds close to herself.

“Do you know where there’s water?” The two Heda’s turn to face someone they hadn’t thought to see. Standing there tall and proud in stature. Her long brunette and blonde locks falling over her white shirt down to her abdomen, she has three braids staring at the top of her head that pull most of the top back and down her back. Lexa’s eyes go wide and Clarke feels a weight lift off her chest, this woman had died because Clarke had chosen to save her. 

“Anya?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!


	6. Resurfacing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy's group is attacked by a wild animal, wounding one of them almost fatally. They rush to try and save their life by heading to and Azgeda city.  
> Meanwhile Ontari returns to Polis after awakening in a foreign environment.
> 
> Fair warning, Ontari's bit is rather violent.

Bellamy

“How long until we reach Azgeda?” They had been hiking through mountains for the last hour and despite himself Bellamy couldn’t deny that his legs were starting to hurt. “And why aren’t we taking horses?” “What’s the rush Bellamy? Not enjoying the view?” Axis calls back. The black man didn’t look like he’d even broken a sweat while Bellamy was having trouble keeping his shirt separate from his body.

Bellamy was licking his lips every few seconds to keep them wet, he knew they’d be chapped later, it didn’t help that he was completely parched. Echo walking next to him could see and passed him her water bottle. “We’re already in Azgeda Bellamy, we have been since the river. Haven’t you already feel it getting colder?” Echo asked. The weather had been getting colder but Bellamy hadn’t really been paying much attention to the weather, rather he was trying to maintain his balance. “We’ll be in the capital in a couple of days.” Bellamy, huffing his breaths at this point, sighs before muttering “Great.”

They’d reached the peak of the mountain and ahead Bellamy could see that it was mostly downhill from there on. He couldn’t resist the small smile of relief that graced his face. Ahead he could see vast crowds of trees, they were mixes of vibrant greens and reds. The further he looked though, the less colour there was, as if the trees had started to wither and die. He marvelled at the beauty of the ground. In all his time here he’d never actually bothered to take a minute to stop and just breathe in the breathtaking scenery that had become his new home. He could understand how Octavia had fallen so in love with the ground. It was so much more beautiful than the cold greys of the metal that had surrounded him and been his home for over 20 years. He felt truly warm.

It was quickly erased when he heard the heavy breath and growling coming from down the mountain they’d just climbed. Bellamy snapped around to see the muzzle of a massive brown creature covered in fur. He fell back with shock landing against the rocks as the creature roared. Bellamy’s chest was screaming at him as the beast lifted itself to its hind legs and repeat its powerful call before dropping to the ground and beginning to charge at him in an instant.

Echo called out “Baera!” before Bellamy watched the three warriors behind him all charged at once towards the roaring creature. Roan ducked underneath the animal’s left arm as it swung, too slow to catch him. Axis with two swords ran directly into the bear driving his swords right through its heart. Echo was inches behind him with her axes at the ready to block the closing arms, but not quick enough as Axis screams in pain when the animal’s black hooked claws sink themselves deep through his armour into his soft flesh.

Echo brings her axe down hard, as hard as she can but its path is halted as the cold steel embeds itself deep into the bone. The beast’s arm flies out of Axis, taking a incredible amount of his flesh that had been hooked by the claw with it. Axis howled in agony as his crimson blood begins to pour out of the grisly looking wound in his back, he falls to one knee in front of the creature but in a last act of defiance before unconsciousness claims him is to slam his blades as far through the chest as he can, to the hilt and further into the creature.

Roan shouts in victory as he stands on a large rock behind the creature before leaping onto its back, at the same time sinking his blade deep into the spine of the creature. Roan twists his wrists and the steel fixed deep in the spine turns and snaps the spine at the tip of the baera’s neck. The howls and growls cease instantly as the beast falls dead next to Axis.

Roan vaults over the body not even grabbing the blade, he sinks himself to the ground and cradle’s the unconscious man’s head in his hands, “Axis?” He questions, but there is no response. Bellamy pulls himself upwards and walks towards the two men. He crouches down behind Axis to see the gory torn apart flesh. His instincts kick in as he pulls his jacket off and pushes it against the wound to try and at least slow the bleeding. Echo jumps over the dead animal with all the blades in her hands and she screams at Roan who seems lost in his own world, “Roan! We need to get him to Liberti!”

“Bellamy I need you to carry him.” Roan asks with wet eyes and a look of death plaguing his features. Bellamy is still recovering from the shock of the situation but grabs Axis, being careful not to grab the wound, the man is surprisingly light in his arms. Bellamy is sure to keep his jacket pressed closely to the wound. Just as Bellamy had turned to face the way they were originally going he heard a piercing roar, “There’s another one.” Roan whispered. “We need to go, they can run faster then us.”

“Follow me!” Echo shouts as she starts a sprint down the side of the mountain, she is quick on her feat yet she manages to remain upright. Bellamy has less luck as he stumbles on small stones that begin to run down the mountain under his feet. Roan holds swords in both hands, clearly worried that there’ll be more of creatures like that one. After a few minutes they are deep inside a forest again, the dense foliage above them blocking out most of the early afternoon sun. 

Bellamy’s joints and muscles are crying out in agony as he pushes himself to maintain pace with the other two. His lungs are burning white hot, desperate to get any air in before being forced to push it out again. He struggles to keep his footing as twigs and roots keep trying to snag his feet. The one thing on the ark, he thinks, how much running that you’d be doing on the ground. He considers himself lucky though as they seem to be following a well-travelled path as most of the roots are to his sides.

He can feel the warmth of the blood that is flowing down his arms, most of the blood stays in his hand there, drenching it. Groaning and moaning from his arms provides him all the motivation he needs to keep moving, he won’t let another grounder die on his watch. Roan falls back until he is running by Bellamy’s side, he holds his weapon with the blade coming out the back of his hand, His eyes are locked on the form of Axis in Bellamy’s arms. Bellamy could almost swear that those eyes were ones of anguish. Roan met Bellamy’s glance and nodded before falling behind him, leaving only Echo running closely ahead of him.

The sudden appearance of concrete beneath him was surprising but he managed not to falter as his feet adjusted to the even flat ground. He was surprised at how much easier it was to run on the pavement. The trees also began to grow further and further apart, the sun began to breach through to the ground more and more. 

Echo was waving her arms above her head, the blood-stained axes in her hands were flicking drops of blood onto the path behind her, she screamed. “Open the Gate!” What looked like a wall of tree trunks ahead of them began to slowly split open down the centre, as they were pushed open from within. As they go closer Bellamy could see that the wall extended along either side of the door, and were built high, so high that the treetops could be seen before the top of the wall. Where ever they were, it was definitely well fortified. He could see chips and sword marks in the wood of the walls but he could not see any major damage. Clearly whatever had caused the scratches hadn’t been very successful.

Echo didn’t slow down as she sprinted through the still opening doors, Bellamy followed her and he heard some shout to close the gates once Roan was inside.

What little breathe Bellamy still had was taken away by the sights that lay before him. Directly in front of him was a fire so large that its flames reached higher than some of the nearest buildings. The ground beneath his feet was now made of some black material that he had never seen before. Colours adorned most of the buildings as rugs and blankets hung from balconies to dry in the dry wind that blew strong. There were purples and reds, but most of all Bellamy saw the symbol of Ice Nation was stitched into near every piece that he saw. The hand that spiralled in on itself, starting at the thumb with the other fingers branching off of itself before eventually ending in a pointed end at the centre of the hand.

Almost every pair of eyes turned to see the new people that had just arrived, yet Bellamy somehow had the feeling that every single eye was locked onto him and the person he carried in his arms. They knew that he was Skaikru, that only weeks prior their queen had been trying to start a war against them. And now one of them was carrying one of their own into the town with an escort from the king no less. Bellamy can understand why there are many looks of shock and horror being directed at him.

Running down a street after Echo with buildings on either side of him that bore the scars of the missiles had near destroyed this place almost a hundred years ago. Even in the road on which he ran he could see numerous holes and cracks. The buildings must have been sturdy if they were to survive nuclear missiles. No wonder so many people lived here. In doorways small children looked up at him, like the people in the entrance yard their looks were of horror and disgust, some even turned into the fabrics of their parents clothes to not have to look anymore. 

“In Here!” Echo called to Bellamy as she turned into a small building with an ornate wooden arch built into the brick that it was made of. Bellamy instantly felt the wave of head flood over him as he entered, a second later he saw a fire that was roaring with life inside a fireplace. Roan slammed the door behind him before he started shouting, “Kyro! We have wounded!” “Bellamy. Lay him on the table there.” Bellamy saw where Echo was pointing and jogged with the body in his arms to a long wooden table that was close to the fire.

Stepping away from the body, Bellamy found himself yet again covered in grounder blood, for just a seconds he heard the bangs of bullets leaving his gun and the screams of the people they flew into. He held his hands up to the fire and realised that he couldn’t even see his own skin anymore, there was too much blood. As he looked down all he could see was more and more of it, in his shirt and staining his pants red. It wasn’t that he was Skaikru that had earned him all the horrified looks, it had been the grounder blood that he was bathed in.

The creaking of the stairs behind him caught his attention as he turned to see an elderly woman with extremely dark skin leaning heavily on the bannister as she made her way down. He could see at least two layers of thick clothing that were pulled tightly against her older body, yet her feet were bare, he could see that she was missing three toes on one of her feet. Her crystal white hair was braided along the side of her head and flowed a fair way down her back. A large black shoulder bag was swinging low from her hip, it looked like it was about ready to burst.

She scampered across the floor to the table that stood between him and her. Roan bowed to the old woman quickly, his eyes betrayed his eagerness for her to begin her work. “It’s Axis.” The woman named Kyro only sighed and shook her head, “Of course it is Roan, who else would it be?” What’s more surprising than the fact that she didn’t announce his title as king, is that she seems to be joking with him.

Reaching into her bag she pulls out a piece of glass that’s been cut into the rough shape of a circle and holds it close to her eye. They must work similarly to Jasper’s goggles Bellamy thought, it must be magnifying it for her older eyes. “Baera?” Kyro asks, “Yes, a claw ripped his back.” Roan explained. “You there get me that small table over there.” No one in the room moved. “What are you deaf boy? I said get the damn table.” Bellamy snaps up when he realises that Kyro meant him.

Grabbing the table and bringing it back to the woman he sees that she has a scalpel in her hand. “Where did you find this one Roan?” she queries as he lays the table down, no sooner had he done so and it was covered in medical instruments. “This one’s Echo’s.” Roan responds dryly as he drops heavily into the wooden chair at the head of the makeshift operating table. He gently leans down to rest his forehead onto the side of Axis’s head that wasn’t on the table. One hand was resting in his lap while the other had reached up to rest on the smooth skin of the unconscious man’s cheek.

Echo grabbed Bellamy by the sleeve and began to lead him towards the door they’d entered through. Before it slammed shut Bellamy swore that he saw Roan press his lips to the shaved head of Axis.

Following Echo through the winding alleys of wherever they were was challenging, there were so many quick turns that Bellamy was struggling to keep up. “Where are we going Echo?” Bellamy questioned in a rather gruff voice. “You are going to get cleaned up. I am going to prepare horses to continue to the capital.” A few more turns and Echo stops and points to an entranceway without a door. “Third door on the left, I’ll come back to get you.” And without another word Echo took off at a brisk pace down the street, leaving him alone.

The dry wind blew through the alley, the still wet blood on his body was now cold, making the wind that much colder. Shivering he walked into the building. There were no lights inside but for the light coming in from outside, he kept his arm out to feel his way ahead of him while his other brushed along the wall on his left. The metal handle of the third door was cold to his touch. 

Closing the door behind him he instantly felt the heat of whatever was in the room. There was only a small candle that sat on a shelf next to the entrance, grabbing he moved into the room to see that there was a large metal tube filled with water. The steam that was coming off of it was already causing him to sweat a little. Under the tub was a small fire that was large enough to heat the water but not cause it to boil. Dipping his finger inside to test the heat before he wrenched it out for fear of losing it.

Bellamy quickly pulled his red, previously grey, shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground, and removed a few of the logs from the fire so the water would cool. He gradually lowered himself into the warm water. 

After a few minutes of simply enjoying the warmth of the water Bellamy grabbed the torn rag and began to bathe himself. It felt like it was taking forever to wash the blood off of himself, only to look down. You can’t wash off what you bathe in.

With rushed quick huffs of breath, Bellamy launched up to his feet, so quickly that he fell out of the bathtub, landing hard on his back on the rough concrete of the floor. Groaning, he got to his feet and grabbed the towel that was waiting for him next to a fresh set of clothes. Azgeda clothes. He should have guessed that the towel would end up the same way, pulling it away from his body only to see it spotted with stains of blood. Breathing out a deep breath before finishing, he dropped the towel to the ground and a few seconds later he was pulling the leather straps tight around the grey and white animal furs that now adorn his body.

Something catches his eye in the corner of the room, he grabs the candle and approaches it. The light bounces playfully of the cracked and splintered glass of what must have once been a beautiful mirror. The reflection showed him something that should have repulsed him, the entire time on the ground these clothes had been those of the enemy. Wearing them now, he did not feel any different from when he had worn those of Skaikru. That was all they were, clothes.

“Bellamy?” Spinning around to see Echo standing still in the shadow of the doorway, her eyes were locked on the clothes he wore. “They don’t suit you.” She quietly said before turning and walking back down the corridor towards the open air. “Hey wait!” Bellamy called out to the woman. She didn’t and he had to run to catch up with her.

Exiting out into the cold street after her, he found that it was nowhere near as cold as it had been when he’d entered the bathing room. Echo’s pace picked up as they turned left out into an open area. In the centre was a large piece of metal that was curved in the shape of a bell. A large crack ran down the side of its ash-covered copper surface. Carved into the concrete in front of the bell was the name that Echo had shouted right after the baera attack. ‘Liberti.’

Bellamy stopped to kneel down beside the bell, “Liberty.” He whispered. Echo stood over him, she looked down at the man she had chosen to help. “This city,” She hesitates. “It housed the forces that caused the civil war that nearly destroyed Azgeda.” Bellamy looked up, his eyes full of new questions, but he didn’t get the chance as Echo had already turned away to keep walking.

“Nia had only just defeated the resistance. When we were offered the deal to join the coalition, we couldn’t refuse.” Bellamy remained silence as he maintained the woman’s pace. “At our full strength we could have destroyed every other clan at once. But as we were.” She only shook her head. “For 16 years Azgeda warred against itself, over land and people.” “What started it?” Bellamy questioned. “What starts every war Bellamy, a ruler wanted more power than that which they already had.”

“While the war was going on, none of the other clans knew what was happening. They knew we had the largest army, but they didn’t know it was fighting itself. Azgeda could have been taken by the other clans if they’d known.” Echo lets her hand brush along the dusty wall next to her as she walked. “Why are you telling me this Echo?” 

“My mother and father were on opposite sides of that war.” Echo whispered, as she pulled to a stop in an empty lane, the sun didn’t shine much light into the tight space. “What happened?” Bellamy asked guessing that this story didn’t have a happy ending, Echo sighs before explaining, "During the early days of the war, Nomon, my mother, she drove a blade through his chest. But he did not die. That was not enough for Nia, my mother was held back by Nia’s generals while Nia herself cut off his head.” Bellamy can’t think of anything to say to that, he’d known that Ice Nation was the most ruthless of all the grounder clans. “My mother wanted him to survive, she struck to wound not kill.” 

“Nia cut off his head and then turned on my mother, her head was next.” Echo sounded almost casual talking about her parent’s murder, much to Bellamy’s confusion. “What?” Bellamy almost screamed in surprise, he understood Nia attacking her father, but her mother too, her own soldier. “Love was weakness Bellamy. Nia killed my mother because she would not kill the man whom she loved.” Echo paused at this, as if she didn’t know how to say what she wanted to. Bellamy could see the strain on her features, as if it was taking all her strength to maintain herself.

“I allowed the woman who slaughtered my parents. To lead me in fear, that I could never have something without it being taken away from me, Bellamy. Nia ruled me through the fear that my parent’s fate would become mine.” Echo’s voice was low and stern. But Bellamy could hear the sadness and anger. Bellamy now better understood how Echo had so easily betrayed him when she’d led him away from Mount Weather. “Nia raised me to see only what the world could take away from you, and that the only way you could stop it was to not have anything worth loosing.”

“I’m sorry Echo.” She didn’t say anything in response, simply turned and continued walking in the same direction. “But love is not weakness.” Bellamy remained still as he thought of his sister, who she’d become after finding someone to love. He had never thought that the shy and timid girl he’d lead to the dance on the ark, could be so large a person. And he’d had to watch her come crashing down when Lincoln had been taken from her. More blood on his hands that he’d never wash off. “Love is the strength that keeps us fighting Echo.”

She just snorts without even turning around to face him. “It is only something else to protect. I am telling you all of this Bellamy because you need to understand that I am not Nia. But her teachings are all I know, and I wish they weren’t, I wish that I could allow myself to feel for others. That is how I will teach you Bellamy, the way I should have been trained. I only ask that you have patience.”

“I will try Echo.” 

Ontari

Jerking her eyes open, to see nothing, there was only darkness. Then blinding light shone down on her from above. She tried to get out but she was trapped inside this metal pod, there was no escape. Light began to shine in through the glass window. The hissing of pressurised air made her tense her body, ready for a fight. Her hand locked around a long metal pipe that ran down the inside of the pod next to her leg. Wrenching it from the wall was easy for her, the smoke that blew out from where the pipe had connected was icy to her touch. 

Her back was pushed against the wall with the glass window, the cold smoke had begun to freeze the walls around her, ice was forming over the pillowed surface she’d woken up on. Her breaths were visible as the space got colder, as her teeth chattered she heard the release of more pressure but it came from the outside. Just as she felt her body begin to start freezing the wall behind her fell out of the way, and she tripped backwards to land in a mist covered concrete floor. Groaning, she began massage the back of her head where she’d landed. The metal pipe dragged along the ground as she supported herself to her feet.

The patter of footsteps reached her ears and she turned to hide behind one of the many empty pods that lined the room. Her eyes had already adjusted to the darkness that surrounded her, she’d grown up in the darkness of a cell under Queen Nia’s rule, this was no different, she’d escaped then and she’d escape now. A woman in black clothes walked around the corner. “ALIE.” She whispered with her voice full of malice and a desire for vengeance. With a war cry Ontari charged Becca. The woman in black only heard Ontari at the last second before she felt the cold steel of the pipe collide with the side of her head, and then she felt nothing as she fell unconscious to the floor. “You made me order my own death!” Ontari screams before she swings the pipe underneath her like a club, lashing across Becca’s defenceless jaw. The woman’s red blood splattered across her face and shirt. It felt good to have someone else’s blood on her again.

She brought it up in preparation to deliver the killing blow, her breath was heavy and her eyes solely focussed on Becca. The black blood that pumped through her veins was burning and screaming for her to have vengeance. But the sound of other footsteps alerted her to others. Ontari stared at the bloodied and battered face of her foe that lay at her feet, “I will see your eyes as I take from you what you took from me.” Ontari whispered before running in the opposite direction of the others. Her blood was still white hot inside, begging her to go back, to finish the job. Ontari had never been one for honour, she’d been trained to win. She’d slaughtered all of her fellow Natblida before the enclave had even started. 

After slamming herself through the wire door, Ontari sprinted as fast as she could until she reached the ladder. Her body was tired and weak after whatever they’d been doing to her. She hadn’t actually thought about what it was had been going on in the large chamber. All she knew was that Polis was without its Heda, and she wasn’t about to let someone else steel the power she’d suffered her whole life to obtain. Ontari stuffed the pipe down the back of her elastic white pants as she began to climb the ladder. Her loose black hair was falling in her face every few seconds, pausing for only a second she tore a piece of fabric off of the bottom of the shirt and then tying her hair back in a slick ponytail that fell neatly between her shoulder blades.

Barely a minute later and Ontari was bursting through the hatch in the roof, the early morning dark sky above her, blazing pinks and purples as the sun began to rise. Ontari was off in an instant knowing that she had to figure out where she was. For a few minutes she ran until a large dark tree that stood taller above the rest loomed in front of her. Without hesitation she jumped for a low hanging branch, rustling leaves fell to the ground in her wake as she spiralled up the tree. In a matter of moments Ontari had reached the peak of the tree, she could see out over the roof of the forest, the tree tops all were below her. In the distance she could just make out the flame that stood atop the commander’s tower. Taking no extra time to enjoy the breathtaking scenery that lay before her, the searing colours that streaked across the sky, and the wild birds that danced through the space around her.

Agility had always been Ontari’s strength, and with that agility she all but fell down through the tree, never holding onto a hand-hold for more than a second. There was a quiet thud as she fell against to the ground. She was off the next instant, sprinting through the dense forest and vaulting over fallen trunks. 

Ontari continued for hours, rarely slowing down to rest her sore body. The ice cold river that she dived into, more than revitalised her. It was when the sun was high in the sky and burning bright that she decided to take her first true rest. The wet clothes stuck to her body as she sat on a rock in the sunlight. Water dripped off her body only to dry under the sun’s rays. The metal pipe lay next to her as Ontari ate some berries from a bush she’d found next to the river. Her stomach had been screaming at her to eat something, and when she did it felt like ending a decades long fast. It felt like this was the first food she’d ever eaten in her life. 

The blisters that had begun to form on the bottom of her feet were annoying her. The shoes that she’d awoken with were useless in the wild, these are the shoes that should be worn in concrete buildings, not dirt forests. The first thing Ontari would do when she arrive at Polis after re-establishing herself as Heda, would be to find proper boots. Throwing the leftover berries over her shoulder into the rushing water, she jumped down onto the dry ground of the forest, hissing in pain as she feels one of the blisters pop. Running up along the river she finds a path.

Ontari knew where she was, this was a river that her horse had watered from on one of the journeys down from Azgeda. First with the queen to insight a civil war between the clans, and then with the king to ensure that her rightful claim to the Heda’s throne was fulfilled. The first journey was the opposite of successful, though Ontari can’t deny the pang of enjoyment she’d felt when that spear had torn the life away from Nia. The second journey however, its success depends now on how quickly Ontari can return to Polis. There are no other Natblida, except Luna. Ontari remembered ALIE talking about how she’d captured the other Natblida while she’d still been possessed.

Another hour at her full pace through the lush green forest and she’d arrived at the open gates of Polis, at her rightful place. Through the gates she could see the effect being severed from ALIE had caused its citizens. Surrounding the base of the tower were dozens of smashed bodies. Looking up the tower she can see splatters of red. The places where they’d hit the tower while falling. Ontari remembered the new that Nia had received, of how Lexa had kicked Azgeda’s ambassador out into the open to let him fall to his messy death on the ground. Ontari knelt in front of the nearest body, his long dead eyes stared back up at her. Throwing her pipe to the side, Ontari unclipped his belt and tied it around herself, her hand falling to rest on the sword to her left just by instinct.

“You did this!” Ontari spins to see a small crowd had gathered around her, the people of Polis that had not been tortured to death, or had not fallen to their death. “Bow before your Heda.” Ontari said with all the arrogance and smugness she could muster. The many faces of the crowd turned to anger, some even held blades and were starting to brandish them. The man that had originally spoken, a reasonably large man with long braided hair falling down his heavily armoured back and an even longer braided beard falling down his front, turned to the crowd and shouted. “No Heda No More!” again and again he shouted it at the top of his lungs. “No Heda No More! No Heda No More!”

He turned to face Ontari with his weapon in the air pumping with the rhythm of his words. Ontari only smirked at the man with. “No Heda No…” Blood. It flooded. His throat now opened completely, let loose like a damn as his blood sprayed everywhere, over both Ontari who near relished on the feeling of the warm blood coating her, and his fellow rebels who all recoiled at the sight. Ontari watched as the man crumpled into a dead heap on the floor at her feet, she flicked the wet blood off of her sword onto his clothes, though the added splatters were hard to notice considering the blood that was already there. 

The rest of the crowd were silent, there were no more chants, and even their breaths were halted. “Now.” Ontari started, her blood-drenched smirk sending tingles down all of their spines, “Would anyone else care to share.” The blade was twirling in her hand as she waited, as she begged for someone else to speak. “Shame.”

The first two were dead before their bodies hit the ground, their throats cut clean open just like the first mans, their gargles and splatters becoming background noise as Ontari’s blade clashed. An older man turned to run, Ontari couldn’t have that and so with her free hand plucked a small blade out of her belt, drove it straight up through the underside of her head, before throwing it with fatal accuracy, sinking it straight into the bottom of the man’s head. In a matter of seconds the number of dead bodies that littered the floors of Polis had near doubled, as had the amount of blood that Ontari danced in.

A woman came at her with an axe, she was obviously inexperienced as she tried to land a slow and heavy swing witch Ontari easily sidestepped before slamming the cup of her hand up into her throat, crushing her windpipe instantly, before the woman fell to the ground, choking on air she couldn’t breathe in, Ontari grabbed her axe that slipped from her grasp. In the next instant it had found its place sinking firmly into the skull of another warrior that had tried to stab her. Ontari purposefully took the time to look down at the struggling woman, her skin had begun to turn blue from the oxygen deprivation, her eyes screamed for help, they begged and pleaded, and she gasped and spluttered for any air, receiving none. Ontari laughed at the woman’s tortuous expression. 

Wrenching the axe from where it had been implanted a blood-soaked Ontari turned to face the last two warriors that dared face her, their faces were near identical. The two brothers with their tanned skin were both wielding two swords. They charged her together, and they died together, as Ontari threw the axe right into the chest of one of them, dropping him to the floor. The standing one stopped in his tracks turning to his brother for only a second but it was enough as Ontari sliced quickly at the back of his knees. He screamed in pain as his face fell down towards his brothers who was now coughing up blood, choking on it. Ontari laughed as she levelled the tip of her blade at the back of his head and began to push through, she rejoiced in the screams of the wounded brother, the blade emerged through the mouth of the dead man, Ontari continued to push and soon the tip was entering the skull of the other and the screams and wails for mercy ceased.

The sword did not easily removed itself from the brothers’ heads so Ontari instead decided to pick up an axe from the grip of one of the fallen dead warriors. Her eyes locked with the dark brown ones of the choking girl’s as she struggled to stay alive on her last stretches of oxygen. Kneeling next to the soon to be dead girl, Ontari lowered her face until it was inches away from hers. The last thing the choking girl would see is the smiling face of her Heda. Seconds later life left her and her dead hands fell against the cold and wet pavement she died on.

Ontari cracked her neck and stared up towards the tip of the tower. Ontari entered the building and headed for the elevator shaft, she found mountains of rubble that had been cleared away to form a path. The shaft itself was empty, there was no elevator, and then she looked down. There it is. Sighing, Ontari swung into the shaft, grabbing onto the handle of the ladder. Ontari was careful not to slip, she wiped her wet bloody hand onto her pants leg. Climbing was not a problem for her, but it seemed that she’d done a lot of it today, first to escape that underground prison she’d woken in, then the tree, now this. Ontari climbed to the top, not stopping until she reached the top.

She turned and started walking towards the commander’s chambers, deciding that she needed new clothes. The doors had been broken down, the glass inside them had smashed and scattered all over the concrete floor. The rest of the floor was covered in smashed and broken furniture that looked like it had been used to block the door. The room inside didn’t look much better. There were a few dead bodies scattered in various positions on the floor. 

Ontari knelt down to the closest one, he hadn’t been dead very long, and whatever had happened after she’d allowed ALIE to kill her had happened quickly. The wardrobe on the far side of the room was intact the doors swung open and Ontari’s face lit up as she saw the armour that she thought had fit her so well. Carrying it over to lay on the commander’s bed, she stood back and wrenched her white and red clothes off of her body leaving her naked in the middle of the room. 

The clothes were spread out on the bed, Ontari held her own clothes, soaked in blood above the clean ones and began to wring the blood out. Letting it drip slowly out until it was staining the clothes on her bed. She did the same with her pants and soon the blood she had worn minutes before was now an accessory to her new attire. Not paying much attention, Ontari threw the clothes on herself.

The clothes fit her perfectly, she felt comfortable in the Armor, ready for battle, ready for blood. Ontari practically moaned in pleasure as she slipped her feet into a pair of warm and comfortable boots. Once the laces were done up, she stood to walk towards the throne room but stopped when she saw the mirror. 

Gasping when she saw her reflection, Ontari brought her fingers up to the mirror and began to trace her face. “They’re gone.” She whispered. A second later a smile of genuine happiness graced her features. Her whole life she’d had to bare the marks of Nia, and now it was if they had never existed. Ontari laughed a laugh of pure pleasure, she was unmarked now. She was free of that past, nothing would hold her back from her future.

Bodies decorated the floor of the throne room, Ontari wondered why she’d never decorated like that. Her heart stopped though when her gaze fell on a particular body. She walked slowly towards a table that was placed next to the throne.

Brown dead eyes looked up at her. Her brown eyes looked up at her. Ontari can’t believe what lies in front of her. She reaches up towards her face and begins to trace it, her other hand repeats the process on her own face. They are identical. The scars are the only measure of difference. This body has them, and she now does not.

The cold blood coats her hand as she slowly lowers her hand into the gaping hole in the dead woman’s chest. Her hand closes around something solid and she begins to lift it out of the cavity.

“How?” Ontari asks herself as she brings the dead heart up and out of the body, the artery’s pulling out of the body with it. The slippery, fleshy texture is the first thing the woman has ever encountered that has actually given her tingles. In her hand she held the dead heart of herself. This had pumped blood inside her own body, and now she held it in her hand. This was not something that anyone should ever experience. 

Ontari stumbled back away from the table, careful not to fall down the steps behind her. The arteries that connected the heart to the body fell away, flailing over the side of the gaping whole. 

Brown eyes never looking away from the body, analysing it, looking for some hint that it was someone else’s, that she wasn’t looking at her own corpse. Ontari knew she’d died, but she hadn’t expected to encounter her own body. The thought had never entered her head.

She stumbled over her feet before she slumped down heavily into the throne in the centre of the room. Her eyes stared blankly over the corpse filled room as her mind warred against itself over what to do next. Her hands were wrapped around the heart that had once been the evidence that she lived, almost as if she were trying to keep it warm. Her hands were coated in her own black blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up but My exam's are coming up, in a few weeks I'll be free to update a helluva lot more. So close to freedom yet so far, *Groans*.


	7. Second Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miller confronts Jasper after discovering that he betrayed them to ALIE.  
> While Clarke, Lexa and Anya head out to collect the rover. Only to discover that Ontari has made it to Polis.

Monty

3 hours had passed since Miller had set out in search of Raven with Monty and Jasper at his side. There had been mostly silence as they carefully traversed the rough terrain. Monty and Jasper walked with their guns hanging behind them, as if there was absolutely no threat to be had, and it was bugging Miller who’d worked hard to make it into the Arkadia guards in the months since Mount Weather fell. “You two, stay sharp, we don’t know what’s in these woods.” Miller called out behind him as he saw Jasper snap a twig under his foot without a second thought.

“Sorry Nathan.” Monty said quietly as he grabbed his gun and held it properly. Jasper didn’t respond and instead folded his arms. “There’s nothing out here Miller.” Annoyance began to build in Miller, “Raven’s out here Jasper. She’s alone and defenceless.” Jasper just rolled his eyes and picked up his gun again. Miller couldn’t help but catch the sombre expression that was haunting Jasper’s features again. He’d noticed it after they’d left the drop-ship, and several times during their search.

“Are you ok Jasper?” The pale boy’s eyes looked up and he statured out a quick, “Yeah I’m fine.” It isn’t very convincing, and Jasper knows it. “No you’re not.” Miller turns to face the boy with concern for his friend obvious in his features. “What’s wrong Jasper?” He isn’t going to stop until he has an answer. Monty hangs his head, knowing that the answer isn’t one that Miller will like. “ALIE, she was in my head.” Jasper quietly muttered, Miller’s look of concern for his friend transformed instantly into one of fury and wrath. Grabbing the collar of Jasper’s jacket, he slams the smaller man into a tree, causing Japer to grunt in pain.

“What?” Miller asked in a very quiet but very angry tone. “Hey Miller let him go.” Monty broke in, with a hand tightly wrapped around Miller’s arm. He doesn’t even notice Monty. “You betrayed us to that thing!” He shouts into Jasper’s face, now a mix of remorse and tiredness, as if he just wanted this to be done with, he doesn’t even try to defend his actions. “That’s how ALIE knew we were coming. You ratted us out. Bryan got shot because of you!”

The ground crumples as Jasper falls to the floor in a sorry heap. Miller had stormed off into the other direction, knowing that it wouldn’t be good for Jasper if he stuck around. “Miller, wait!” Monty was jogging through the clearing after him. “Did you know?” Miller demanded. He wasn’t loud but the anger was clear as day to anyone who could hear him. “He was tied to a chair when ALIE went offline.” Miller doesn’t turn to face Monty, “Why is he walking around then? He betrayed all of us.” His hands are resting on Monty’s shoulders now, his face pleading for an answer. “He’s my friend Miller. What am I supposed to do?”

“Stop him from hurting the rest of us.” Monty’s eyes widen at the response, he remembers the searing red hot pain of the screwdriver entering his abdomen, remembers the hand that held the screwdriver. “No Miller, we need to help him. He’s not doing very well, you know he hasn’t been the same since Maya.” The last word is barely a whisper as Monty can’t bring himself to talk about the person whom he helped to murder. “I’m sorry Monty, but that doesn’t give him the right to hurt other people.”

“He didn’t Miller! ALIE did.” Monty argued, “And he allowed her to, he let her in when he shut the rest of us out Monty.”

“I have nothing Miller!” Jasper shouted from behind them, having silently stalked up to the arguing men. “You had us!” Miller shouts while at the same time Monty quietly says “You have us.”

“You’re right Miller. I betrayed you, I betrayed all of you. I went to someone that could get Maya’s body out of my head. No more nightmares, no more blistered bleeding skin. No more dead, empty eyes!” Jasper himself had started to weep. Miller could imagine nightmares like those, about never seeing Bryan again. “You can’t just run away from you pain Jasper.” Miller tries to convince Jasper. “That must have been easy to say Miller.

Without another word Miller turns and begins to stalk off into the thicket of trees that surrounds them. 

Monty turns to face his friend, his hand resting above his healing wound, applying pressure. “What do I do Monty?” Jasper begs with sadness and futility haunting his voice. “I don’t know Jasper. I’m sorry.” With shrunk shoulders and his hands falling limp at his side, Jasper turns to follow after Miller into the thicket. “You make it better Jasper. You help us, find Raven. She needs us.” With his back to his friend, hiding the tears in his eyes, Jasper nods only once and continues after Miller.

Monty sighs to himself before following into the trees after his two friends. Soon he catches up to Jasper and walks next to him. “How long were you under ALIE’s influence Jasper?” Monty had been wondering it, he’d tried to wait for the right time but it had been eating at him, how long had Jasper been lying to them. “The night we got back to shore after Luna drugged us.” 

Jasper reminisced, he had been looking up at the sky, the swirling stars that shone bright and strong. It had reminded him of the star in the painting that Maya had shown him, the swirling grey bodies surrounded by darkness. He had loved the painting the second she’d shown it to him. Of course thinking about the painting made him think about her. Maya’s frizzy black hair. Her skin so pale, it had never seen the sunlight, and thanks to his people it never got the chance to.

The pain had boiled up inside him, making him sick to his stomach, he rolled over before he realised that he had nothing left inside him. He had held her in his arms when her last breath left her. He’d watched so many people die because of his people. Maya, the hundreds within Mount Weather, the innocent girl who’d been shot with an arrow only because he had decided to speak to her. It had been in that moment that he finally understood why ALIE would win. There had been no free will, no desire to do something that would not benefit humanity. 

Jasper, in that moment swallowed the pill without a second thought. His pain flew away and he, for what felt like the first time since Maya’s blood had stained him, could see again. His stomach no longer felt like it was trying to burn its way out of his body, his lungs no longer begged for air from being held to tightly, his heart no longer struggling to piece itself back together. ALIE did that for him, and all she had asked was that he not think for himself, at the time it seemed like a fair deal. 

Jasper tried to explain these feelings to the man beside him, Monty listened with rapt attention, trying so very hard to understand why his lifelong friend had felt the need to become autonomous in nature.

“We can be better Jasper. I promise.” Monty held jasper firm, but Jasper couldn’t meet his look, not now. “I can’t see it. I used to Monty, but I can’t now.” Jasper bows his head and keeps walking. Sighing, Monty thinks to himself, Jasper isn’t wrong, they’ve made a lot of mistakes since they were sent down to the ground. But they’ve also done a lot right, Jasper just needs to see that. “We can be better.”

Clarke

“Anya.” Lexa reaches out her hand, offering it for the other woman to shake. “Who is Anya?” Clarke can see the pain in Lexa’s eyes at the question. She was like Aden, no memory of her life. Anya looks down at the still outstretched hand with interest, she wears a small smile as she reaches out to return the gesture. “Anya sounds nice.”

“Do you remember anything Anya?” Lexa asks, she’s so close to her mentor yet it seems like she is so far away. “I’m sorry, the last thing I remember is waking up and seeing Becca. She explained who we are, did I know you?” Clarke has to admit that Anya is taking the knowledge that she’s a clone in her stride. It was always like Anya to do that. To Clarke she had always been the epitome of confidence, as if nothing could phase her. “Everything I know, you taught me.” Lexa answers.

A little surprise shows on Anya’s face, “I must have been good than. What’s your name?” Though she hides it well, Clarke can see that Lexa just wants to plead for Anya to remember her, “I am Lexa. This is Clarke.” Anya stretches out her hand to Clarke, the blonde is hesitant to take it, remembering what had happened only a few seconds after the last time she’d shook this woman’s hand. “It is good to meet you.” Anya says when Clarke after a second, does take her hand.

“Now, first things first. Water?” Lexa nods and says, “This way.” As Lexa turns to walk towards the entrance to the dropship, her hand still firmly held within Clarke’s grasp, Clarke can see the happiness that is shining through her eyes. Clarke can’t imagine how Lexa feels, only a few minutes before she’d been questioning why she was allowed to be reborn when others weren’t. Clarke hadn’t been able to answer, but now that Anya was reborn with her, she hoped that the question wouldn’t need to be answered, that Lexa wouldn’t feel guilty about living while others didn’t. She had always hidden it, but Clarke knew that Lexa carried every single life inside her, every life that had been lost, and they were all heavy on her soul. Now that Anya is back maybe the load will be a little lighter. 

Lexa is in a daze, so much had happened to her within the last day, her last memory had been of the pain of a bullet in her abdomen and the feel of Clarke’s lips on hers as she recited her people’s burial rights. Only to awaken moments later in a strange cave, to awaken to Clarke, Clarke who seemed to have suffered so much in the small time that Lexa had been. Now her mentor and oldest friend, someone she’d thought dead and gone for months, is walking right beside her, yet they are strangers to each other. 

“Thank you Lexa.” Anya says when she’s give a metal bottle. Before anyone has the chance to continue the conversation, Marcus calls out. “Alright we head out in 10 minutes!” Then he approaches the three women, “Clarke, do you know how to get back to the rover, we can’t leave it there if we can use it.” The blonde nods her head. “I’ll bring it back if I can.” “Good, we’ll see you at Arkadia. Here take this.” Kane passes her a hand radio but and can’t help but sneak a glance down to see the two women’s hands intertwined.

“Kane, I must go to Polis as soon as possible. The coalition will be in disarray after what Ontari has done. I am worried that there will be war.” Marcus nods his agreement. “Once everyone is safe behind Arkadia’s walls, Skaikru will honour its oath to the coalition. We will support you, Heda.” Lexa is thankful, after everything that the grounders had done to Skaikru, to hear that they’d still support her is very comforting, and gives her the tiniest amount of confidence that her goal of peace between her people. “Thank you Kane.”

“Let’s go.” Clarke says, turning to Lexa. The brunette commander looks a little uncomfortable. Clarke can understand what she’s feeling, Lexa doesn’t want to let Anya out of her sight, after finding her again. “Anya would you like to come with us?” “I would Clarke.” The blonde nods and turns to the open forest, “Come on then.” 

“Wait Clarke. Octavia!” Lexa calls out to the girl, she’s standing next to Lincoln, apparently also afraid to let him out of her sight again. “Lexa.” The greeting is curt but cold. “Can you look after Adelaide? She likes you.” Octavia seems confused at the request before Lexa points to the horse that has its head reaching up to a small animal in the tree it’s tied to. A small beam makes its way onto Octavia’s face. “I will Lexa.” “Thank you Octavia.”

A few minutes later and the three woman have started to trek through the dry forest. There is an uncomfortable silence between them, clearly none knowing what to say next. They needn’t worry though as they all recoil in shock when a man falls to the floor in front of them, a rope tied around his waist that reaches up into the trees. He has his blade drawn, but he is not in a stance ready for attack. Cautious eyes lock onto Clarke, but become filled with surprise when he sees the other two women. 

“Heda?” his voice is muffled by the spiked mask that covers most of his face. He drops to his knee in an instant with his head bowed and blade laying at his side. Anya is confused at the man’s actions, Lexa walks forward to the warrior with confidence in her movements, “Rise, Mason kom Trikru.” 

“Heda, how? Your body was burned.” Lexa turns to offer a small smile to Clarke who stands behind her silent. “Skaikru.” Was her only response. Her warrior nodded, it was all the answer he needed. “What are you doing her Mason?” The man takes off his mask to reveal a dirt covered face, contrastingly soft brown eyes look at them. “I am watching over Skaikru. Scouts saw Ontari heading for Polis. She was wearing the same strange clothes that you wear now.” Anya has remained silent throughout the exchange, Clarke can see the obvious confusion in her features, but also the same determination that had allowed her to leap off of the top of a dam. Clarke had always respected Anya as a leader, and now she realises that she is the same person, just with another chance to show her people a better way.

“We need to go to Polis Clarke. Now.” Clarke nods, “Let’s get to the rover.” Lexa starts off at a brisk pace with her warrior, Clarke and Anya following close behind. The two warriors, mantle and vault over rocks and trees as if they knew this forest off by heart, they quickly move into a run. Clarke and Anya have a little more difficulty not tripping up on the small roots and rocks that litter the dirt floor. Every few seconds Lexa looks back to check that Clarke and Anya are still behind her, she slows down when Clarke even falls a little bit behind. 

Lexa’s eyes only divert from the path for an instant when several more warriors fall from the trees, barely stopping for a second before they match the pace and surround the group as if making a barrier. The rags of fabric fly behind them, Clarke can see quivers of arrows and sheathed swords flailing in the wind as they move as one group. There are looks of surprise on nearly all the warriors’ faces, but also pride, they have their Heda back, and now they are going to protect her. 

Anya notices several curious glances towards her general direction coming from the warriors. They must have known her, she thinks to herself, she nods at the heavily armed warrior closest to her. The woman has long flowing light brown locks that flail in the wind behind her as she runs. She wears a smirk across her uncovered face, it is one of confidence and determination. The smirk only gets wider when Anya offers the woman a formal nod, before she turns her head back to watch for anything that may trip her up. They manage to maintain the pace for a fair amount of time, occasionally tossing the water bottle Anya had been given between them. The dry leaves crack beneath the feet as they climb up a steep hill. “There it is.” Clarke calls out as the reach the hills peak, bellow them they can see the overturned form of the rover lying in a pile of charred leaves. Without a word, Lexa’s people are quickly working to get the rover back onto its wheels. Clarke looks it over, the damage to it is mostly cosmetic, the Azgeda explosions must have been to bring them down not to kill them. Besides a few dents in the sides, it is as good as new.

The warrior that had run next to Anya approached her while beginning to remove her outer coat. Anya was surprised when the woman thrust the heavy jacket into her arms. “It protect.” The woman’s English wasn’t as advanced as hers but Anya understood. “You save me.” The brunette Trikru says. Anya sighs, she was learning more about the woman she was, then learning about how to be a person at all. “I’m sorry, but I’m not her.” the warrior appears a little crestfallen but quickly hides it behind her regular smirk. “Wear.” Anya nodded and the warrior returned to lifting the truck onto its wheels. “Wait.” Anya gently grabbed the woman’s arm. “What is your name?” “Myssa.”

Anya slid her arm into the sleeve and pulled the jacket around herself, it was snug and warm inside, the warrior’s body heat had kept it warm. It was almost instinctual how Anya knew which straps led to which buckles. Lastly she tied the belt around her waist. The tails of the coat dragged along the ground as she walked, Myssa was a couple of inches taller than her after all. Anya didn’t deny how comfortable it felt to where the jacket, it was as if it had been made for her to wear. She wasn’t the Anya that everyone around her seemed to know, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t strive to be as great as everyone seemed to think she was.

Clarke had seen the woman’s gesture and it made her think of how defenceless Lexa was in the simple white overalls that she’d worn inside the pod. Quickly she shed her coat and held it delicately in her arms. “Lexa?” She grabbed the commander’s attention, she held out the coat to Lexa. “Take it Lexa.”

“Thank you Clarke.” Lexa says softly as she wraps the warm fabric around herself. She can feel the warmth of Clarke’s body that now envelops her. When the blonde isn’t looking she leans her nose down into the collar and is delighted to find Clarke’s faint scent is still imbued within the warm coat. “You needed it.” Clarke remembers how the bullet had torn right into Lexa’s skin with virtually no resistance, Clarke couldn’t bear to let something happen to Lexa now, not after only just getting her back again. “I don’t need my armour to fight Clarke.” 

“I know Lexa.” The slam of metal onto dry ground causes the two women to spin around. The rover is now standing upright. Clarke’s eyes go wide when she realises that she hadn’t checked yet. Rushing down the hill she wrenches the driver’s door open, to find nothing. No body, no blood, no Bellamy. “They did take him.” Clarke concludes, she is confused, on the one hand Bellamy isn’t dead, but on the other, the most ruthless and violent clan has him now. 

“Took who Clarke?” Lexa questions as she finished coming down the hill to stand among her warriors. “Bellamy, Azgeda attacked us and we had to leave him behind. They’ve taken him.” Lexa’s face falls, she turns to face two of her lightest warriors and begins to speak to them. “Lufa Bellamy au. Mafta Azgeda op.” Clarke’s trigedasleng isn’t amazing but she heard Bellamy’s name and Azgeda. The two warriors break away from the group and start to run north. Lexa turns to Clarke. “I have sent them to find Bellamy, do not worry Clarke, they will bring him back.”

“Thank you Lexa.” Lexa nods her head but her eyes convey her happiness to help Clarke. She understands that in front of her warriors, Lexa must restrain her emotions, for fear of being seen as weak. One day, Clarke hopes it won’t be necessary, that love will not always be seen as weakness.

The heavy door at the back of the rover hangs open, inside the cabin are bloodied bandages that had been keeping Indra alive. The right wall has several dents in it from where the explosions had hit. Clarke only need motion to Lexa with a simple nod of her head and the brunette is ordering her warriors inside. There are wary glances from the Trikru, and Clarke can’t say she blames them. For the first time inside it must seem very closed in. Clarke shuts the door but before she can turn to enter the cabin Lexa gently grabs her hand and pulls her closer to herself. “I know you worry for my safety Clarke.” She rubs the black coat where the bullet had entered her. “But you need not. If it comes to a fight, Ontari is alone and cornered, and I am a much better fighter.”

Clarke beams lightly at the inflated confidence that Lexa is showing. The argument they’d had before Lexa had fought Roan was similar, except Clarke now had no doubts about Lexa’s fighting prowess. She’d more than proven it, first against Roan, then again in the City of Light. Though Lexa might not remember. “I know you are Lexa, but I’d rather make sure.” The smile that Lexa had imprisoned in her eyes now escaped to take over her face as she gently leaned her lips into Clarke’s. The warmth and safety shuts out the rest of the world for a few seconds, leaving just the two of them, Clarke can just feel the love and power radiating from Lexa. She will never lose it again, not again.

The cold metal that she sits on reminds her of the metal pod she’d awakened in, a kind looking woman in black clothes was offering her a hand. Apprehension and insecurity ran coarse through her body, she recoiled, ready to strike out in defence. But she didn’t, next to the woman in black was a tall man that’d had smiled. She’d been scared but he was nice to her, it had been enough to calm her. “Anya. It’s good to see you again.” He offers his hand, despite her better judgement she accepts it, there is something about him, as if she’d known him in a previous life, knew he would not harm her now. The woman, he called her Becca, had tried to explain what had happened to her. “You were a warrior leader before Anya, and now you can be again.” The man, he called himself Lincoln, had made it simple for her. Now she sits surrounded by warriors again, yet she didn’t feel threatened or intimidated, but rather protected. 

Almost all eyes within the truck are locked on her, filled with disbelief and questions. Finally one of them was braver then the rest. Though his stature was small, Anya dared not question his nerve, she could tell that he was as tough as any other. “We thought we wouldn’t see you again Anya.” The woman that had given her the coat, Myssa, locked her attention on the conversation, eager to hear what her saviour had to say. Anya could only sigh and “I am sorry. The woman you know died. I have no memory of her.” There is a noticeable drop in the atmosphere of the car, even Myssa lowers her eyes to the ground. Anya can’t help but feel a little sombre at the reaction. These people didn’t want her, they wanted their friend back. And she couldn’t be that for them, she didn’t know how.

“Kane. Come in.” Clarke sat in the front seat of the rover now, Lexa next to her listening to the crackle of the radio. “I hear you Clarke. We’re nearly at Arkadia, did you find the rover?” Clarke sighed a tiny breath of relief, it seemed like Azgeda really had backed off. Clarke sees Lexa gesture for the radio and Clarke holds it out to her, nodding for her to speak. “Kane, we must stop Ontari. My people say she is nearly at Polis. I cannot allow her to destroy the coalition.” Clarke knew how much Lexa had sacrificed to bring the coalition to fruition. “I understand Commander. Once we’re settled in at Arkadia, I’ll send a squad to help you.”

“We don’t need an execution team.” Clarke tried to ignore the whisper she’d heard come from the compartment. There was only silence, she turned to Lexa. Clearly she had heard the comment also. She kept her face hidden, even though Kane couldn’t see her, “I will await your team Kane.” The radio crackle quickly dies as the radio is passed back to Clarke. The rover is eerily silent.

“Clarke.” Lexa pauses before gently patting the top of her hand. “We must go quickly.” Clarke nodded.

The keys were still in the ignition from where Bellamy had left them. She turned them and the engine roared to life at her touch, the subtle purr could be felt through the walls. Clarke had never driven the rover but was confident enough, she’d watched the others drive it often enough. Feeling round with the pedals at her feet for a second to get a feel for things, Lexa looked at her questioningly. Before she could say anything however Clarke gently hit the accelerator, causing the car to lurch forward. Lexa’s face turns white for the smallest instant. “I need you to navigate Lexa. And you might want to put your seatbelt on.”

The rover lurched forward in the dirt as Clarke spun the wheel to a hard right, dragging the car along with it, almost tipping it over again. The disgruntled and annoyed moans of the warrior’s groans, not to mention the small scowl from Lexa made Clarke say, “Sorry.”

A few rough hours of unsteady driving later and they had managed to reach Polis in one piece. Though Clarke doubted that the passengers would agree with that assessment. The sun was just falling below the horizon at this point. The burning beam of light shot through the windscreen right into Clarke’s eyes as she slammed hard on the brakes, bring the rover to a sudden stop, causing everyone to fall forward. Before Clarke could even turn the truck off she heard the metal latch being popped open and most of the passengers fleeing out through it. An embarrassed chuckle escaped Clarke as she saw the disapproving look Lexa was giving her. 

Clarke couldn’t believe how natural this felt, Lexa hadn’t even been back for a day and yet, she felt as if everything in her life was better because of it. The door opened and Lexa jumped out, closely followed by Clarke. She took a second to stare up at the flame that sat atop the Commander’s tower. It looked like it was burning stronger than when she’d left only yesterday. Clarke hadn’t imagined herself returning back here for as long as possible, yet when she turned to see Lexa guiding her warriors to set up tents she realised that there was no place she’d rather be.

“We will make camp tonight, and march at first light.” “Wait, wait. I thought we needed to stop Ontari.” The warriors were already working to build a fire. “We rest tonight Clarke, we eat and drink. We will fight Clarke. You’ll see.” The fire behind Clarke screamed into life behind Lexa. The first flame soaring into the sky, burning bright and hot, highlighting Lexa’s frame. Before Clarke could say a word, there was rustling in the woods behind Lexa. 

Warrior after warrior became visible as they all began to emerge into the clearing, they each carried weapons and provisions. Clarke is amazed at how many there are, it is as if they are appearing from thin air. “I cannot expect them to fight for me after a day’s march, can I Clarke?” Clarke swallows her words of protest, clearly they can afford to wait the night. 

\--

Anya stands in front of the fire that raged at the centre of the camp. The bustle of the warriors around her catches her attention, they walk right by her as if she wasn’t there, doing their duties around her. Even the questioning looks have started to cease. The warriors from the rover must have spread the news that she wasn’t who they believed her to be. That their friend was truly lost to them. Turning back to the warmth of the fire, searching it with her eyes for answers to questions she didn’t know she had. 

Anya was so lost, only hours ago had she awoken with no memories, no experience and all the expectations of a great warrior thrust upon her. She didn’t know what to do with all that. It seemed that if only Lexa and Clarke were the ones that managed to hide their disappointment that she wasn’t their Anya. Even them she’d only known for a few hours at this point. She didn’t belong her, she didn’t know how to. 

“Anya?” A voice behind her questioned. She turns to see Myssa standing there with a bundle in her arms, Anya can see clothes, boots, and a blade. She sighs and forces a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. Myssa’s expression is one of sadness and obvious disappointment, but there is not resentment. “You’re not angry that I’m not her are you?” Anya asks as she allows the girl to lead her to a private part of the woods to change. “You her. Not yet.” The warrior responds. Anya can only chuckle at this point, she doesn’t see any point in trying to argue and seem ungrateful. 

“Thank you for the clothes Myssa.” The girls gives a slight bow before running back in the direction of the camp. Anya simple returns to the fire, only now wearing clothes that felt only slightly less alien to her.

\--

“Heda!” one warrior calls out as he approaches Lexa, he holds a large cloth wrapped package in his arms, he drops to one knee as he offers it to her. “Thank you.” the warrior runs off, relieved of his burden. “Come Clarke.” Lexa walks towards the centre of the camp to where a large tent had already been set up on a small hill. Clarke sets a side note to herself at how quickly Lexa is stepping back into her role as Heda. She nods to the two guards that stand at the door. “Wanheda.” They acknowledge her. Clarke feels a stab at her heart from the name.

It is quickly forgotten however as Clarke enters the candle filled interior. Lexa stands with her back to the entrance, the bundle is unpacked on a table in front of her. The long coat Clarke had given her lays straight on the table along with her white shirt. The bare tattoo-less back that Clarke had been so enamoured by now faced her. She is now enamoured again, the burning lights of the councils glisten and dance of the tanned skin. Clarke can see the strength in the muscles that ripple as Lexa moves to pull on a black shirt that sat at the top of the bundle. Without blinking, the blonde watches it slide down the toned body of the commander.

“You are staring Clarke.” She snaps her head away and faces the door through which she’d just entered. She doesn’t notice the small smirk Lexa wore as her checks burn hot red. Clarke stands for a minute before she hears heavy footsteps approaching her. The gentle weight of Lexa’s hand rests on Clarke’s shoulder causing her to turn.

Standing before Clarke, Lexa wears simple black pants and a light grey shirt with a few tears at the ribs and sleeves. Her hair falls down her back in messy curls. Her bare feet peek out from underneath her pants. “Come Clarke, tomorrow will be a tough day. 

Clarke took the outstretched hand and allowed it to lead her to the corner of the room where a small cot had been set up. Though simple in size, especially compared to Lexa’s bed in Polis, it was still covered in extravagant and soft animal pelts. Lexa sat on the bed and moved to the far side, allowing Clarke to sit down on the edge to untie her shoes.  
The bed is surprisingly soft for its size and Clarke soon finds herself quickly becoming drowsy, despite having slept quite late this morning. Clarke turns on her side to see Lexa’s green eyes staring back at her. There is no need for words as the two women effortlessly wrap themselves around each other. They end up with Lexa resting her head in the crook between Clarke’s neck and shoulder, she breathes deeply allowing Clarke’s scent to flow through her, Lexa believed that she’d never get this chance again, she wasn’t going to waste it. Clarke lay on her back with her arms wrapped around the commander’s body, holding her close, too scared to let go.

The warm flames of the candles sitting on the table and various metal holders around the room helped Clarke calm herself down. Soon she closed her eyes and just listened to Lexa’s soft breaths while she traced small circles underneath Lexa’s shirt. 

“I missed you Lexa.” Clarke softly whispers into the commander’s ear. Clarke feels Lexa’s arms only pull her tighter as well as one of Lexa’s long legs intertwine with hers. 

“You hold my spirit Clarke. It chose you. I was always with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this Wednesday I'll be finished with exams so no more overly long dry spells I promise.


	8. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The repercussions of Octavia's actions star to appear as one of Pike's supporter demands she be punished for his murder. Murphy is forced to fight for his life in the arena. And Raven endures so that she may be free from her burdens.

Lincoln  
The dropship did not hold good memories for Lincoln. The first time he’d ever been inside, he’d been tortured relentlessly. He had carried the scars of the thrashing that Bellamy had given him with one of the seat belts. On his ribs, across his face and he had not broken his silence. There was not much else that they could have done to him, the Skaikru could have done anything and he wouldn’t have uttered a single word. He was strong enough to endure anything that they could do, but he was not strong enough to watch someone else, someone he loved, he wasn’t strong enough to watch them hurt. 

The second time that he’d been brought to this place, it had been as a mindless reaper. A thoughtless, careless monster that lusted for blood. He had been tortured and broken inside Mount Weather, he had never forgiven himself for giving in. Despite knowing that there was nothing he could have done to prevent the conditioning taking hold of him, he was still disappointed in himself for giving in. 

The first time he’d been brought to the dropship, it had been to suffer and bleed. The second time, was to stop the suffering, the addiction that ran coarse through his veins. And now the third time he sits within the cold metal walls, he waits. Cautious, he did not know what to expect this time.

The girl had insisted that she was fine, stubborn as Lincoln had always known and loved her to be, but once Lexa had finished asking Octavia to look after her horse, the tired fighter had fallen asleep in his warm embrace. It had been about half an hour since he’d seen Lexa walk out through the door with Clarke and a woman from the pod that he had not recognised, he never got a good look at her face. The smooth yet cool area of metal floor that Lincoln sat on was close to the door out into the forest. Octavia grumbled, reaching out in her dream and pulling Lincolns arm tighter around herself. He couldn’t deny the pure contentment he felt holding her close to him.

“Damn Grounder.”

Snapping his head up at the callous words, he looked around at the faces closest to him, trying to figure out who had said what he had heard so many times during his life at Arkadia. It was no use, Lincoln did not recognise the voice, it had been instantly camouflaged among the hundreds of other voices inside the dropship. He had never fit in at Arkadia, he’d worn their uniform, followed their rules, yet he was an alien to them. And Octavia had become an Alien to the people who called her one of their own because she loved him.

“Lincoln.” Kane called out as he approached the resting warrior. “Clarke just radioed, Ontari has already reached Polis, they’re going after her. We need to get to Arkadia so we can send a team to help her. We’re heading out in a minute, can you bring up the rear with Harper?” Octavia grunted her displeasure at being awoken after so little time asleep, though Lincoln’s face showed no reaction, he couldn’t help but to find it cute. “Of course Kane.” Marcus nodded before turning to talk with Abi who was helping one of the wounded Skaikru with a makeshift crutch.

Octavia stands up and stretches before rubbing some sleep from her eyes before going over to her pack to check on her stuff. Before Lincoln could follow her however, he caught sight of one of the Skaikru that had supported Pike. The tall man wore hatred and rage as a cloak, shrouding him. He had his sights locked onto Octavia’s kneeling form, his fist was clenched and Lincoln could swear he heard the grinding of teeth. “Are you ok?” Lincoln asked the man, “I will be when I have justice.” The other man spat at Lincoln, not even paying him the respect of making eye contact.

Realising just an instant too late what was about happen, Lincoln watched as the man dropped a blade out of the sleeve of his jacket, catching the handle in his hand as he started to sprint towards Octavia. Lincoln turned to give chase with everything he had. “No!”

Out of nowhere a forearm collided with his throat. The sound was loud and it was most certainly not pretty. The blade clangs of the metal surfaces as it falls out of his grip, followed a second later by the slam of his body smashing into the metal ground leaving him wheezing and spluttering for air. Everyone inside the dropship turned towards the commotion. Lincoln took his chance and kicked the knife away from the man, out onto the forest floor.

Octavia’s saviour stands hunched over with the arm she used to stop the would-be killer, the other is wrapped around Becca’s shoulder. “Indra.” Kane asks bursting through the crowd. “What’s going on?” Indra struggles to straighten herself but fails, Lincoln can’t see much of her injuries, they’re all bandaged, but the fact that most of her body is bandaged isn’t a good sign to him. Indra pays Kane’s question no mind, her focus is solely on the ma she just took down. “You talk about justice Skaikru. I would gladly give you justice.” 

Abi quickly follows Kane through to the space that had formed around the confrontation. By now Octavia is more than aware of the situation, she runs to Indra’s side and takes her other arm, “Indra you shouldn’t be standing.” Octavia looks to Abi only to see a defeated look in her eyes, like Indra would be one to listen to medical advice. The man on the floor is struggling to get to his feet while also keeping a hand wrapped around his throat for fear that it would fall apart without the support. “Ericson!” Kane shouts to get the man’s attention, “What’s going on?”

Ericson, with blood dripping from his mouth staining the metal he stands on, turns to face the man before shouting, “She murdered the chancellor.” More of his blood flies out of his mouth, a few drops even land on Kane. “And she’s allowed to just walk free, no punishment.” Ericson’s words are gargled as if he was struggling not to choke on his own blood. Kane hadn’t really thought about what Octavia had done, a punishment had never crossed his mind. But before words can form in his mind Indra speaks. “She took justice in the name of Trikru.”

“Piss off you Grounder bitch.” Ericson rounds on her, intentionally spitting his words now. “She’s one of us.” Octavia’s eyes burn with fury at Ericson, first he tries to kill her, now he says its justice. Octavia had never intended to be forgiven for killing Pike. Her dark eyes meet Ericson’s eyes, all she can see is bloodlust and vengeance, he doesn’t care about justice, he just wants her blood.

Ericson turns back to face the massive crowd of confused bystanders. Seeing one or two faces in the crowd that show agreement to what he’s saying, he tries to address those people. “She would have been floated in a heartbeat if we were on the ark.” “We are not on the ark anymore Ericson.” Abi interjects. She can’t argue with the fact that Octavia murdered Pike in cold blood, yet she feels no remorse for what happened to the dictator that had brought war upon his own people out of spite.

“Abi’s right. We are on the ground now, things are different now.” Ericson lets out a maniacal laugh. “Things are different, so she can murder whoever she likes and get away with it? Is that right Kane?” The weary man doesn’t know how to respond to the question. “Does that mean I won’t get punished if I kill her?” Lincoln takes a step towards the man, instantly aggravated by his blatant threats. “I would like to see you try.” Indra taunts the man in a dry tone. “Shut up grounder, you’re next. You’re people are responsible for every death we have ever suffered after coming to the ground. First you hunted and butchered our children. Then you betrayed us to Mount Weather. And just to top it off you blew up our home.”

“Not to mention you ALIE.” Becca raises her hand to stop him but doesn’t get the chance to say anything before he continues his tirade, “How many people did you kill? How many people did you put on crucifixes because they wouldn’t bow to your will?” Shock and distress run rampant through her body, “What?” she mouths her desperate request for understanding. She couldn’t bring herself to deny his accusations however, no matter what she did, she would always be the one that engineered the world’s destruction and nearly caused humanity’s extermination. “What do you have to say ALIE?” He shouts at her while standing tall and triumphant over her. Octavia tries to defend her, “She isn’t ALIE. She created the killswitch that freed all of you from ALIE's control." Becca notices how Octavia failed to mention that she was the reason that the world needed to be saved, but she is thankful that Octavia tries.

Not even acknowledging her, Ericson turns and continues in on Kane. “Can we just kill now Kane? Is that how it works? We don’t like someone or the choices they make, so we’re just allowed to kill them!” Ericson demands of Kane. “Of course not!” he shouts back. “Then where is their punishment? Where is our justice?” Ericson takes his time to slowly articulate every word of his question.

The room is silent, no one knows what to say. The people from the pods, with no idea what this murderous man is even talking about, and the rest of Skaikru torn between principle and understanding of the situation. “Anyone?” Ericson addresses the crowd. Silence. “Alright then.” 

Before he even catches the other blade that falls from his sleeve he has Octavia’s pressed against his throat. It falls to the floor with enough force to stand upright for a few seconds before it falls over itself. “I did what was right, for all the lives he took, all the suffering he caused.” She looks over Ericson’s shoulders into Lincoln’s eyes and continues. “All the hatred he bred in the people he was meant to protect.” The man’s eyes are near bulging from his head, “That’s bull and you know it. He took your precious grounder bed warmer away and you threw a tantrum, like you little children always do.” 

The weight of a warm and caring hand falls onto Octavia’s wrist, slowly forcing her to lower her blade away from his throat. Octavia doesn’t hide the dampness that had formed in her eyes, nor the blind rage that burns her heart at the words. She turns to look at Lincoln, she can see the kindness and hope in his eyes. That there is a way out for her from this hole she’s dug herself into. It doesn’t last long though as Ericson doesn’t stop his barrage, thinking he’s safe now, “You should all be locked up, before you kill someone else.”  
Grunting Octavia points the blade back up at his throat and holds it there, a millimetre from his carotid artery. He doesn’t worry though, he leans over her with his hands in fists firmly at his side. Octavia watches as a tiny drop of his blood makes its way down his chin, she watches it hand before letting go and falling to the ground. The silence in the room is nerve racking as everyone else waits for eons to see what she will do, but they never find out.

“That’s enough! This isn’t how we do things Ericson.” Kane shouts before ripping Ericson away and shoving him in the direction of the medical area. “No Kane! She needs to pay for what she did! They all do!” “She saved all of our lives. You would still be a slave to ALIE if it wasn’t for her.” Marcus stands front and centre inside the enclosed space, people watching him from every side. He truly did not have a solution for the current problem, because as much as he hated to admit it, Ericson was right. “So she gets a free pass Marcus!” Ericson bends down to pick up the blade from its place on the floor. His attention locked onto Kane who stands between him and his justice. All eyes are on him as they anticipate his next wild move. “Put it down Ericson. There is no need to spill anymore blood.”

“Stop defending a murderer and allow justice Kane. That was your job on the ark. You used to be so good at it. No one got away with anything. Look at you now.” Abi can’t bear to watch this, she knows the type of man Ericson is, and she knows he will not stop until he gets what he wants. And Kane is stopping him. “Ericson please, put the knife down, you don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand Abi? I saw, I watched her plunge that sword into his heart and walk away like it was nothing!” Ericson rounds on her.

Lincoln took his chance, with all eyes on Ericson, and Ericson’s eyes on Abi. He pulled against Octavia’s wrist, towards the open door behind them. There is no way that this doesn’t end in bloodshed if they stay. Octavia knows this and lets him lead her away.

Octavia knows that Indra won’t be safe here, from him and from her desire for vengeance that nearly equals his own, so she grabs her wrist and leads her away.  
Abi can see what’s happening, as does Kane. Ericson is shouting now, about how he has the right to exercise justice as a member of the guard, and that anyone in his way would be an accessory to murder. Abi and Kane, know that they need to keep him busy long enough for the others to escape. 

Backing away slowly from the dropship towards Adelaide, Lincoln quietly begins to undo the ropes that tie the horse to the tree. The ground below them is covered in grass, their footsteps are nearly silent. Indra, struggling not to drag her feet leans heavily on Becca, who herself is still weak from her encounter with Ontari. Lincoln can see and puts his arm around her before lifting her legs to cradle her, her lifts her up onto Adelaide, quickly followed by Becca.

“Pike will have justice!” Ericson shouts, invading Kane’s personal space before turning around to see Octavia and Lincoln running next to a trotting horse carrying Indra and Becca, out the gate to the camp. “No!” He shouts as he moves to give chase, he doesn’t notice as Harper sticks her foot out of the crowd. He does notice when his face slams into the solid metal though. If his face wasn’t bloody before it certainly is now. He scurries forward but again slips in the pool of blood that falls out from where he’d fallen. He sprints out of the dropship and towards the gate, but he can’t see anything. He breathes heavily, no longer trying to stop the blood that flows from his mouth and nose.

Octavia holds the reigns of Adelaide as she runs through the lush green and brown forest that she had long since considered her home. Lincoln runs next to her, having a harder time then her, his new body only just having come out of stasis. Octavia can see that every few paces he stumbles a little, however he never stops.

Octavia spins around to see if they’re being followed. She can’t see anyone. “Where do we go?” Becca asked from her position from the horse, she has Indra’s tired arms wrapped around her stomach. Becca herself looks like she’s barely holding onto the reigns, however the experience of riding horses from her time as Heda allows her to remain upright.  
“Polis.” Lincoln answers. “Lexa and Clarke are there. They’ll help us.”

Murphy

The cold wind blows through the open window that sits above him. Lying on the ground had become habit for him when Emori and he had been hijacking traders on the roads. But it was so much different now. Metal and brick surrounded him, caged him. And Emori’s warmth and comfort weren’t there to keep away the nightmares that shot through his brain whenever he tried to sleep. He is being held back by guards as a screaming child, watching his father being dragged kicking and screaming to the airlock. 

“You can’t do this!” He screams as he pounds his fists against the reinforced glass. Jaha nods his head to the door worker and the last thing that Murphy ever hears from his father as the air is sucked out of the room, is a resounding “No!” That turns into a shriek of terror in the space of an instant before it is silenced just as quickly. The guards release him from their grip and he runs to the cell, dropping to his knees as he looks out into the cold, empty, blackness of space. He can see his father’s body, motionless, floating through the desolate void. The fear and terror still etched into his relaxing features.

Murphy screams as he smashes his hands into the glass, tears rain down uninhibited from his eyes, flooding the ground he sits upon. The rest of the guards have left but for the door operator. Murphy turns to face him with a tear soaked face, red fluffy eyes and with a cracked throat begs “Why?”

“Because he deserved it kid. Now piss off.” Murphy turns back to face the now closing door to space, watching the door shut off his view of his father’s corpse. “I said piss off kid.” The guard shouts as he picks the small boy up from under his arms and throws him out the door into the corridor. Murphy’s sick and frail body can’t put up much of a fight, and he crumples to the floor as the door seals behind him.

Murphy screams himself awake, cold sweat dripping off his forehead, staining his clothes. He turns to face the open side of his cage.

“What do you want?” Murphy questions, needing something to distract him from the still fresh nightmare. “What was it Boy? What do you see when you close your eyes?” Of course that’s what she wants, Murphy thinks to himself. He lies back down and turns onto his side facing away from the metal bars that lock him away from the world.

The woman sighed. “You’re punishment has been decided. You will face Ilen in a battle,” Murphy rolls back around to look into her tired but violent eyes, “And?” He questions. “He wants to take his time with you. I am sorry.” Murphy snorts. “No you’re not, you couldn’t give a damn what happens to me.”

“I beg to differ. You and I are very similar.” He can’t help himself from rolling his eyes at the woman’s attempted sentiment. “We’re really not.”

“It seems we both have a certain affinity with fire, in the very least.” She sighs and pushes a group of stray hairs back over her ears before continuing. “I never told you my name.” deciding that he’s not going to get any more sleep, nightmare or not, Murphy leans his back against the cool stone wall and sits his legs open in front of him. “Should I care?”   
“I don’t expect you to but you don’t really have a choice in the matter.” Murphy leans his head against the wall, cracking a large smile he looks at the woman. “Of course I don’t. That seems to be the story of my life.” The woman takes his words as a sign for her to start whatever she wanted to say. “My name is Katerea. I am second in command of Sankru.” Murphy recognises the name. “The Desert Clan.” He whispers to himself. “That’s right.”

“What do you want with us?” Murphy knew she wanted him to fight but that was too simple, she had plenty of fighters, she didn’t need him. “I want you to survive your punishment.”

“Why?” “Well it would be a shame to lose a fine fighter such as yourself.” Murphy is getting tired of this and it shows in his voice. “Cut the crap. We both know that you have an army of soldiers at your command.” The woman laughs before leaning back into her chair. “Oh I didn’t mean that kind of fighter boy. No no no. You will not become my soldier, you will become my slave.” 

Murphy rushes the cage, shoving his arm through the gap, trying as hard as he can to reach the woman, but again she is just out of reach. He sighs before retreating back into his cell. “What happened to us being similar?” He mocks her previous sentiment.

“Oh we are, and will be even more so if you survive your first battle. Now anything else you would like to know.” Murphy stands up straight with his back to Katerea. “You’ll regret trying to control me. I promise.

“It’s time!” Murphy hears someone scream from down the corridor that he’d been dragged down. “Come on then boy.” Katerea says as she pulls the gun out of the holster tied around her thigh.

Murphy shuffles his way down the corridor, following Katerea’s instructions when she tells him to turn. He walks down the hall for what feels like ages, the walls never change, and there are no doors or windows, only a newly lit torch every few meters. If he couldn’t feel his feet crunching on the sand beneath them he’d think that he wasn’t moving at all. Finally he can see a light ahead that is different from the fire the torches hold.

Approaching it, the sound of roars and screams grows louder, until it reaches near deafening levels. Murphy can almost feel the ground vibrate underneath him from the movement of so many people. As Murphy approaches the light he brings his hand up to shield himself. 

The gigantic arena that Murphy walks into, takes his breath away, everywhere he turns he can see hundreds of people sitting and standing behind barricades. They’re all screaming at him, so loud that he can’t even make out a coherent word. He turns around but all he sees is empty space where Katerea was, he spins around to see her climbing up and over the large barricade with the help of some people. He watches her climb the steps to sit upon a platform.

“Emori!” Joh shouts when he sees the girl sitting in the chair next to Katerea and someone else wearing a large hood that conceals them. He can’t hear her over the sound of the crowd but can make out the word she shouts back. His name, she screams his name again trying to reach him but her effort is futile. He watches as she struggles with the chains wrapped around her wrists, keeping her in the chair.

The figure in the large hood stands from their throne and in an instant, silence befalls the arena, so silent that a feather landing on the ground could be heard. “You stand accused of murder. What say you?” A deep voice bellows down from the platform. Murphy is confused by the words, is the figure asking what he thinks about the killing. “I was defending myself.” He shouts up, causing an uproar from the crowd. They were all screaming and shouting but now it was angry and hate-filled, and directed at him.

Murphy noticed out of the corner of his eye, the door at the other end of the arena opening, and a tall figure wearing a simple shirt and pants emerges through. The door quickly shutting behind him. The figure on the platform raises their hand and hush falls upon the crowd again. “And what verdict do you offer Ilen Kom Sankru.”

Spinning around to face his accuser, Murphy sees that it is indeed the same man that whose brother Murphy had killed. “I say guilty.” He screams, the crowd follows in cheers of adoration and support. “Let the verdict be delivered.” Was all the mysterious figure said before Ilen sprinted towards Murphy. His feet occasionally sinking into higher mountains of sand.

“Woah, wait.” Murphy holds his hands out, trying to gesture for the other man to stop but it is little use. Ilen screams with rage and bestial savagery as he leaps into the air, aiming his tightly clenched fist right for Murphy. Thinking quickly Murphy reaches out to intercept the fist before it finds its target. Grabbing the wrist Murphy pulls the airborne man down and into the sand at his feet, grunting at the impact.

Taking a few steps back before the man regains his composure. “Ilen just wait.” His opponent almost snarls at the request and begins his charge anew. “What would you have done in my situation? I thought he was going to kill us.” Murphy narrowly dodges a fist that was destined for caving in the right side of his skull. “Then you should have let him. Now I will break you.” The man rages as he swings wildly, Murphy barely manages to deflect or block the blows, knowing that if one of them lands he’ll be done. “I’m sorry about your brother!” Murphy screams as he catches a fist in his hand and holds it tight.

The apology doesn’t have the desired effect, if anything it seems to only further enrage his foe. “I will break you, and leave you bleeding in the sand. And then I will drag that bitch down hear and tear her throat out in front of you.” Murphy calms at the threat. People should really learn, threatening people he cares about isn’t a very smart idea.

Murphy raises his leg and jams his foot into the right side of Ilen’s knee completely separating the bone from his kneecap. The crack of bones is a familiar sound to Murphy, he watches Ilen fall to the ground screaming and cradling his knee. Just as Murphy approaches to deliver the killing blow to end the fight, he himself cries out in agony as a long jagged blade sinks deep into his shoulder. Falling to his knees and then onto his forearm, he can feel the burning hot blood pouring out of his back.

Slowly he reaches underneath his shirt and arm, he coughs and watches as small droplets fall and stain the sand beneath him. His fingertips blush against the metal sticking out of his back, the feeling contrasts the red hot fluid that is flooding out of the wound. His eyes, leaking his pain onto his face, lift up to see that Ilen has gotten to his feet, leaning his back against the wooden wall that runs around the circular arena. The pain on his face is obvious, but his joy at Murphy’s predicament is even more so. “You are among my family boy, you took their brother away from them!” He screams.

The old man that is just above him in the stands drops a large axe down into the sand at Ilen’s feet before patting on the top of his head. Underneath his shirt Murphy wraps his hand around the blade, the small broken edges dig into the skin in his hands. Slowly and agonisingly he slowly drags the blade out of his flesh, causing the blood to only pour faster. Ilen is walking towards him, using the axe like a crutch. When he is standing with his feet at Murphy’s head, he screams. “For my Brother!”

He raises the axe above his head, executioner style. Throwing the blade down with all the force he could muster, but it was not enough. At the last possible second Murphy throws himself to the side landing hard on the blade, pushing it further into his back. He screams out in pain and rage, but he doesn’t stop. Ilen is struggling to maintain his balance with his one good leg. Murphy releases his rage and rips the blade quickly from his shoulder, grunting in pain as the now-open wound floods what little of his shirt that isn’t stained with his blood.

Sprinting into the unbalanced man, Murphy drags him to the ground before holding the blade that is slick with his blood against Ilen’s throat. “I didn’t know!” He screams into Ilen’s face. Murphy struggles not to just end it, slide the blade across his throat and release himself from the match. But killing without thinking is what got him into this, he doubts it is what will get him out. “I don’t care.” Ilen whispers.

Ilen slams his head up into Murphy’s, slicing some of his neck with the blade in progress, but managing not to his anything important. Murphy rolls over and crawls away from the man to gather himself. Ilen pulls himself up by the handle of the axe. Murphy watches the tanned skin stained with blood as he rights himself, and again stalks towards him. There is no way out for Murphy.

Murphy looks around the crowd until he sees a face that he never wanted to see again. A face that he will not allow to see him die. Not today, not after everything that he suffered because of the choices that the owner of the face made. Emori hears the faintest voice screaming louder than the rest of the roaring people around him. He looks past Ilen to see Emori, still struggling against her bounds, anger and determination is all she shows. Murphy can’t help a small chuckle, that was the Emori he knew.

“You know what Ilen. Your brother was a dick! Say hi to him for me!” Murphy shouts before he throws himself from the wall, right into a shocked and surprised Ilen. He slides the blade right between his ribcage, sinking it deep and straight into his heart. Murphy can see the light leave his eyes before his head even slams into the sand floor. The screaming and shouting of the crowds that surround him on every side fall silent. 

Murphy lifts up off of Ilen’s empty body. He straightens his back is stopped when he can feel the wound in his back scream at him. He stands himself and locks eyes with the dark ones underneath a black hood. They remain stagnant, almost as if they hadn’t registered what had happened. Without breaking eye-contact with the man under the hood Murphy screams at the people behind him. “I will not lose!”

Raven

With the small blue chip held tightly in her hand Raven limps quickly past the packs, down the hall that Jacob had led her to the armoury. If memory served her, and it always had, then there should be a large locker full of spare engineering equipment. Raven laughed, she remembered arguing with Sinclair repeatedly, that the equipment shouldn’t have been stored in the skybox near all the prisoners. She stops when she remembers Sinclair, the wold turns to face her, and she can read the curiosity on its face. “I lost my friend.” Raven tells the wolf.

A small whine escapes from the wolf and Raven could swear it sounded sympathetic. ALIE’s chip must have affected me more than I thought, I’m talking to an animal.  
Raven reaches the rubble covered armoury and looks to the bottom to see the hole that Jacob had dug out. She’d known him for not even a day, yet she already missed him, he had been awkward but a bit funny. But most of all he had been lonely and Raven had tried to take that away. She turned to face the wolf that was waiting patiently next to her. Raven knows she can’t blame the animals for defending their territory, she doesn’t know if there is anyone she can blame at all. 

After dropping the chip into her pocket, Raven rests her hand in the thick and warm fur of the wolf’s dark coat she leans on the strong animal and lowers herself to the floor. Slowly, Raven crawls through the tight gap in the debris, she looks up and sees all the riffles that litter the floors. Strewn about in the rough impact of falling out of the sky. She pushes one out of her way as she reaches for a shelf to lift herself up to her feet. She turns to see the wolf sticking its head through the hole from which she’d just emerged.  
The door to the locker room is clear and Raven heads to it but is distracted when she notices the piles of body armour that are sprawled out in one of the corners. Raven lifts one up, finding them to be a lot lighter than Jacob had let on. She remembers the mind-numbing pain that Murphy’s bullet had caused when it had lodged itself in her spine. The bulletproof material in her hands could have easily stopped the bullet, Raven remembered hearing about how plates of thin but strong metal were covered by the material. 

Leaning against the wall behind her, Raven pushes her hand behind her back and underneath her shirt. Raven takes in a sharp intake of breath when her fingers brush the lumpy flesh that makes up the scar on her lower back. Raven closes her eyes, she can still see the darkness of the underneath of the dropship around her. She can still hear the shouting from above as Murphy was trying to kill Bellamy for vengeance. She remembers pulling the trigger on Murphy. At the time she had been so angry at him for betraying them all, for hurting her.

“I may have been mad at him.” Raven starts, talking again to the attentive wolf that was observing her from the hole. “He was right to be pissed, we treated him like shit. He was a murderer, but he never hided it.” Raven laughs, “You could always trust him to do what was best for him.” Raven remembers the boy she hadn’t seen in three months, not since he’d left with Jaha to find their City of Light. “That turned out well.” Raven jokes

“Watch out.” Raven says to the wolf as she throws pile after pile of the body armour through the hole. When she’s done the wolf sticks its head back through the hole to continue watching over her. It watches as she painfully moves back across the room to the adjacent room.

Raven digs her nails into the tiny crack between the two doors and slowly begins to drag them apart. The sound of metal dragging on metal shrieks out throughout the room, sending a jarring tingle up her neck. Raven struggles for a few seconds to force the doors apart but when she finally makes the crack large enough to look through she sees her goal. Lying on the ground are all the tools that she’d need to crack the chip wide open.

After another minute of shoving and grunting, Raven finally opens the door enough for her to squeeze snugly through. Raven takes her time finding all the instruments, being careful to load everything into the one toolbox, not wanting to have to come back again.

After she’s done, Raven forces herself through the door again, tools in hand. The wolf perks up visibly when Raven re-enters its line of sight. Raven very carefully lowers herself down on her good leg and lets her bad one fall behind her as she pushes the toolbox through the hole and following closely behind it. Raven’s wolf is there to help her back to her feet once she’s through. Raven doesn’t remove her hand from the warm fur when she’s standing however. She keeps her grip on the wolf as she walks back the way they’d come, feeling some comfort from the wolf that walks alongside her.

Raven walks into the bedroom that she’d slept in the previous night. The wolf lowered its body to the ground allowing Raven to sit on the ground. The drawing of trees on the horizon merging. Raven smiled at the idea that when Clarke was in solitary, rather than be scared of being alone, she instead chose to create beauty. 

Raven quickly got to work building a temporary holder for the chip, similar to the one that had delicately held the flame back at Arkadia when they’d been figuring out how to unlock it. It was Sinclair that had eventually figured it out, Raven doubted that this one would be as easy, she was working blind now. Raven stops as she remembers her old friend and mentor. “I wish you were here now Sinclair.”

Raven focuses in on the chip, making sure that she is comfortable as she knows that this will be a while. She barely notices when the wolf behind her kneels down until it is sitting on the floor with its body curling around her own slightly. She felt the warmth of its strength, she used it as her own. Rave reached around to gently scratch the large animal behind its ears, the feel of the dogs skin under all its fur was an odd sensation but not one she didn’t enjoy, and the animal was clearly not complaining as its tongue was lolling out of it mouth.

Turning back to the stand holding what she hoped would be her salvation, Raven leaned forward and began to work with her tools.

\--

After hours of slaving over the chip Raven finally screamed, “I got it.” The wolf that had been sleeping next to her warm body jerked awake at the outburst, whining that it had been woken up. “All I had to do was inverse the binary of the matrix and it allowed me entry.” She explained to the dog, who stared blankly back at her. “Right.” Raven says.

Shuffling over to the bed, she pulls herself up and into it, she doubts that what she’s about to do will be painless, “May as well be comfortable.” She mutters before she lifts the reprogrammed chip up to her mouth. She stares at the small blue piece of plastic. Remembering what had happened the last time she’d swallowed one of these. After working so hard she is a bit disappointed that she hesitates, there is no way that ALIE can control her now, there is no more ALIE. Knowing that doesn’t make her feel any better about it though.

The wolf that had slept around her stood tall on its legs, taller than Raven was sitting down. The girl couldn’t help but be amazed by the animal, it was so large yet it had already allowed itself to sleep, to be vulnerable in her presence. She didn’t really understand why these animals had chosen her, she didn’t even know if she was glad about it. But what Raven did know that she was tired of her wound stopping her from living, from doing her work or anything she wanted, she was tired of being burdened.

Raven looked into the intense golden eyes that were locked closely on her. “You wanted to hide my pain ALIE, now you will free me of it.” She says before closing her eyes and placing the chip on the end of her tongue and swallowing. After a few seconds she opened her eyes, surprised that nothing had happened.

Spasms raged through her body, she screamed and wailed in pain as she felt her body burn as if it was on fire, before it felt as if she was being submerged in freezing cold ice. The wolf whined in worry as it watched its alpha screaming in pain. Soon the other wolves in the pack entered the small tight space and clamouring around the bed where their alpha lay writhing and screaming in tremendous agony. All of the helpless to help her. They’d just watched their last alpha’s body go up in flames and now they thought they were watching their new one die. Raven retreated into her own head but found that the pain was even more so intense, as if she could feel every nerve on her body individually being set ablaze. 

It went on for eons inside her mind, the flames never went out, and they only burnt hotter and hotter until Raven was unsure how she could possibly endure much more. Her voice was soon hoarse from screaming but still her body burned. Raven was scared, she felt her heart pumping the entirety of its adrenaline storages throughout her body, only fuelling the fires that scorched her. Her body started to sweat causing her hair to frizz and stick to her face, while her eyes watered and flooded with tears of indescribable pain.

But it stopped, in an instant there was no more pain, no more fire, no more screams. Raven opened her eyes to stare up at the rusted metal springs that held up the mattress above her head. Her mind was blank, she couldn’t feel anything. For the first time in what felt like her whole life she couldn’t feel the constant pain of her leg. She swung her body over the side of the bed only to be faced with the calm sitting bodies of her pack of wolves. Each had their own eyes locked on her. None made a sound. 

Raven grabbed the metal rail above her and pulled herself up, not yet knowing if the pain had been worth it. She places all her weight on her good leg, keeping the one in the brace hovering just above the ground. Ever so slowly and carefully she lowers the other down until her sole is flat on the ground, and still there is no pain.

Raven releases her grip on the metal pole and lets her hand fall to her side, she supports herself entirely, and equally on her two feet. Raven doesn’t hold back the tears that pour from her eyes as she uses the braced leg to take a step forward, not like she usually does by keeping the leg straight and swinging it around, but she feels her knee bend and straighten again underneath her, and there is no pain.

Raven bends over and begins to rip and tear at the bindings that keep the brace wrapped her leg. In seconds the sound of the metal brace landing on the floor are reverberating around the otherwise silent room.

Straightening herself she again takes another step with the now unbraced leg, the wolves watch with curiosity as their alpha walks in a new way. They had only seen her limping up until this point. They didn’t know why she was excited but they could see that their alpha was happy and that was all that mattered. 

Her foot landed on the floor again and she could feel the impact in her foot, she hadn’t felt it properly from that side in months. Raven took a few more steps, the wolves silently parting to move out of the way of their alpha. Raven walked until she had reached the entrance of the skybox with the pack close in tow, feeling nothing at all, as if there had never been any pain.

The crunch of twigs beneath her boot had never sounded so real. Slowly increasing her pace Raven was soon jogging quickly through the trees, she watched them fly past her at a speed she never thought she could imagine, next to her she could see the coats of her wolves as they ran with her. Raven increased her speed until she was sprinting the fastest that her legs could carry her. She let out a cry of joy that flew between the trees, her cries carried a message. She was free.

Raven kept running and running and there was no pain.

There is no pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, so my exams are finished so I'm probably going to be uploading a lot more frequently now instead of like once a week.


	9. Picturesque Devastation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy only chapter.
> 
> Bellamy and Roan discuss stories to pass the time on their journey to the capital. And when they arrive, Bellamy is amazed at what the city holds.
> 
> Bit of a long one here.

Bellamy

The skies above screamed and raged with the wrath of the storm that begged to be let loose upon the crowded city. The streak of blinding lightning tearing through the sky down in the forest, the crack of the thunder soon shouted out to the city. A warning of what was to come for the people of the town. The heavy rain quickly began to pour down from the angry clouds that circled above them like sharks circling their prey. They would be making their way to the capital in the muddy mess that the rains had undoubtedly already turned the forest into. “Roan we need to leave soon!” Bellamy shouted over the thunder to the man that was discussing something with an old woman in heavy robes, covered with the insignia of Azgeda. They bowed respectfully to each other before Roan turned to the horse carriage and pulled his fur over-coat tight around his body.

Bellamy ran to the opening door of a nearby brick building, holding the door while Kyro and Echo carried the unconscious Axis out on a makeshift wooden stretcher. “Bellamy take this.” Echo instructed, passing her end of the stretcher before running to her king. A second later Echo bowed deeply before running and jumping up to mount her horse, without even looking back she teared out through the open gates, her horses hooves clopping on the cement ground. “Where is she going?” Bellamy questions when Roan comes back to help load Axis into the back of the carriage. “I sent her to scout ahead, check for obstructions.” Bellamy reached up to pull the tarp down and over the end of the carriage after Kyro had gotten in with her son, the fabric was already soaked but when Bellamy looked inside it was dry as a bone.

“What about baera? We barely survived one together.” Roan laughs before answering, “You mean, Axis, Echo and I barely survived one together.” Bellamy lets a small stretch of annoyance pull at his face, “They would have gone to hide in their caves. They hate the thunder. She’ll be fine Bellamy. We on the other hand are a different story.” Roan climbed the small ladder to sit in the sheltered compartment at the head of the carriage, he reached out his hand to help Bellamy up to join him. When he was firmly sitting on the dry bench next to Roan, Bellamy ran a hand through his soaked hair, combing it out of his face. “I don’t understand, it was bone-dry a few hours ago.” Bellamy questions. “It always is.” 

Roan shouted out a “Hyaah” as he slammed the reigns down, throwing them back into the back of the bench as the carriage lurched forward with the power of the two horses pulling it. Bellamy can feel the fragility of the wooden wheels that pull the carriage, the wheels are rickety and the whole carriage shakes because of it, causing the bench to quickly become very uncomfortable. And it showed. Bellamy was fidgeting every few seconds, whether he be shuffling forwards or backwards, stretching his shoulders, or just annoyingly tapping his restless leg. 

After about the fourth time Bellamy did he turned to face the man with a blank face but obvious annoyance screaming through his eyes. “Would you like to ride the horse instead Bellamy?” This quickly brought the uncomfortable man to a forced still, knowing that Roan would have every intention of actioning his threat. “Thankyou.” The kings voice was very condescending, annoyingly so but Bellamy was able to ignore it by turning to observe the forest that he had up until this moment, not noticed.

The water dripped down the darkened bark of the large old trees until it began to pull on the ground over the leaves that had been dry when he’d arrived at Liberti. He watched as the thinner braches swayed back and forth in the strong winds that caused the tarp over their heads to ripple violently. There were animals that bounded through the trunks just behind the tree line. Birds flew down from the sky, struggling to stay aloft as the rain tried to drag them down to the earth. They never stopped fighting the elements and Bellamy watched, one after another, make it back to their respective nests. A flicker in the corner of his eyes dragged his attention back to the path ahead of them as the bush on their left rustled before a deer made its lightning quick run across the road, Bellamy barely had enough time to make out the second deformed head that breached through the animal’s neck.

He remembered the story that Octavia had told him about the two headed dear that she, Clarke, Monty, Jasper and Finn had encountered on their first day on the ground. He hadn’t been able to imagine what such a creature could possibly look like. But now, seeing the bloody flesh that held the two heads together, he can’t help but feel sympathy. Roan caught sight of the deer to, but having grown up among animals like these and ones that were far more mutated, he held no reaction for the animal. Noticing Bellamy’s slightly pale skin however, he realised that his passenger had probably hadn’t even grown up knowing what an animal was, let alone what a mutated one might look like. “In the sky, you didn’t have any animals did you Bellamy?”

Shaking his head before answering, “No. None of us had ever even tasted meat till we came to the ground. Most of us the 100 were sick for a few days after woods.” Roan chuckles at the idea. “It wasn’t funny at the time.” Bellamy thinks back to the first few days that he’d held control over the teenage prisoners that the ark had deemed expendable. How he’d betrayed and humiliated Atom for being with Octavia against his command, not hers. How Clarke, ever the rationalist, was there to show the others how they could survive while he’d tried to command and control them into his ow selfish will. “What was it like for you Bellamy, coming to the ground after living in the stars?” Roan asked, not taking his eyes of the road, ever watchful for anything that would deem them a target, his bow in his hand with an arrow nocked in.

“It was my escape. My possibility of freedom. I watched my sister take the first step onto ground that I’d been raised to believe was deadly. I was so confident that I could command my people that I allowed myself to be blinded to reality, to you all.” He gestures to the man beside him, Roan understands his meaning. “I’ll bet we were an unexpected surprise.” With a solemn look Bellamy nods, “On our first day we nearly lost my sister to a giant water snake and Jasper to a grounder spear. Not what I’d call the best first day.” Bellamy hides his disappointment at his failure to lead behind a poor joke and Roan can see through it like glass. “My first day as king wasn’t much better.” Bellamy knew that Roan had become king because of Lexa but that was all he knew. Roan took Bellamy’s silence as accent and began to tell his story of Lexa’s challenge.

“Every ambassador had stood against Lexa in a coup except Wanheda.” Bellamy interrupts him, “Don’t call her that. She hates it.” Remorse at his own use of the unwanted title brings guilt to Bellamy, he’d thrown his problems on someone else like he always had, about time he stopped. “Except Clarke. If every ambassador had stood against the commander then she would have, by her own laws, been forced to step down as Heda and surrender the flame.” Nodding his understanding of the procedure, Bellamy asks, “But since Clarke stood with Lexa the coup failed?” continuing his story Roan explains. “Yes, the motion failed. So my mother issued a direct challenge to Lexa.”

“The challenge was that if my mother’s champion could defeat Lexa’s in combat to the death then she would have to step down as Heda.” 

“Who was her champion?” Asking out of curiosity.

“Herself.” Bellamy can’t really contain the surprise that quickly spreads through his face. “Lexa was never one to sacrifice her own people, especially for herself, and not unless completely necessary. She would have gladly died for each and every one of her warriors. Though from my understanding you already knew that about her.” Bellamy’s understanding of her desertion is admittedly a little different then Roan’s, the king continues. “I was my mother’s champion. I never understood her decision. Ontari’s always been the better fighter.”

“Motherly pride?” Bellamy offers, to which Roan lets out a full and loud laugh. Bellamy’s confusion is blatant but left unexplained. He remembers how his own mother had suffered to not only protect Octavia, hiding her for 16 years under a floorboard, but also doing what she had to, who she had to, to make sure he would be offered a spot on the guard. And he had wasted it. He had been the reason she had been floated.

Roan was calming down from his fit of laughter, enough so to continue his story. “You clearly don’t understand my mother, Bellamy.” He sighs. “If I won then I would be a hero to Azgeda, if I lost then I would be an embarrassment that she wouldn’t have to live with.” Bellamy wonders what it was like to be raised by a mother that had no love for her child. “I’m sorry Roan.” The man simply waives his hand. “Don’t be Bellamy. I knew what my mother was the second she exiled me, for why she exiled me. I never had good parents, and you cannot miss something you have never known.”

“Why did she exile you?” Roan remains completely silent, the sound of thunder cracking the earth and the rain flooding the forest quickly regained dominance again. Wondering if he touched on a nerve, Bellamy thought to apologize and ask him to continue his story when he turns to see Roan looking back into where Axis’s sleeping body would be in the carriage, and Bellamy’s question is answered.

A few seconds later and Roan clears his throat before speaking again, his voice showing no hint of anger at the question. “I never had a chance in a fair fight with Lexa. She was raised as a Natblida. No one is trained better.” 

“So your mother sentenced you to death.” 

“Wouldn’t have been the first time really?” Roan says with a nonchalant tone that just leaves Bellamy with even more of an idea of the type of woman that had ordered the destruction of Mount Weather. “Exiled is just a slow execution.”

“How did you survive the challenge?” Bellamy questions, eager to hear the end of Roan’s story. “Lexa had me beaten, she could have killed me.” 

“Why didn’t she?”

“It was Nia that Lexa wanted revenge on, not me. And Lexa got it, my mother never even got a chance to defend herself, she died in her chair believing that I had failed.” Roan finishes without a single sign that he felt any emotion for the events that he’d just described. “And then Lexa named me King of Azgeda.” Unsure of whether to feel empathy for Roan at the loss of his mother or gratitude that Lexa brought vengeance upon Nia in Skaikru’s name. “Lexa killed Nia to avenge Skaikru.”

Roan roars with yet more laughter. “What? No Bellamy, Skaikru had no presence on the commander’s mind when my mother died.” Shock and surprise break the surface of Bellamy’s face. “Then why?”

“Because Nia was responsible for the death of the woman that Lexa loved. Nia delivered Costia’s head to the commander’s chambers as a message.” 

“What message?”

“That Azgeda would gladly face the coalition in war if, Lexa so deemed. It was my mother’s way of testing Lexa. And Lexa passed, she refused the challenge and instead invited Azgeda into the coalition.” It seems that there was so much about Lexa that Bellamy didn’t know or understand. Azgeda had been responsible for the death of not only the woman he’d loved, but also nearly 50 other innocent Skaikru. In return he had played a part in the slaughter of 300 innocent grounders that hated Azgeda almost as much as he did. Yet now he learns that when Lexa’s lover was butchered by Azgeda. “She showed Azgeda forgiveness.” Bellamy concludes.

“No. She showed us mercy.”

“Hold on. Echo told me that the reason Nia killed Costia was to hide the fact that Azgeda was still weak from the civil war.” 

Sighing, Roan responded. “She wasn’t meant to tell you about the war, and she’s not wrong. Most of Azgeda doesn’t know the circumstances that lead to us joining the coalition, but those that do know about Costia’s death couldn’t be allowed to know that Nia risked another war just to test the commander’s mettle. They would have overthrown her in an instant. What Nia told them is technically true, it just wasn’t the whole truth.”

“A half-truth to hide behind.” Bellamy offers. “Exactly.”

“What ended your Civil War? Echo wasn’t very specific on that part.” The lack of understanding had been annoying Bellamy, so he decided that there wasn’t a much better person to ask. “You might want to know how it started first.” Roan starts. “Someone wanted more power than they already had?” Bellamy recites the words that Echo had offered him as an answer. “Essentially yes, but it was a lot more complicated.” Roan leans back against the hard back, getting comfortable for the story.

“Azgeda wasn’t always ruled alone by a queen. My father used to rule equally alongside my mother. Ekon, he ruled fairly and the people loved him, my mother even did at one point. But I guess it wasn’t enough.” Roan pauses, and lets out a long slow breathe. Bellamy guesses that talking about his father isn’t the easiest thing to do. “They ruled out of Liberti, the city we just left. But my mother knew about the existence of Azsonraun, the City of Frozen Life. That’s the capital, where we’re heading to now.”

“My mother wanted to lead a force to recapture the city, but my father saw no need. The stories of old all proclaimed that there was nothing that could live there, those that had tried had returned to their villages deformed and screaming in pain, only for their villages to die a few weeks later of sickness.” Bellamy connected the dots in his mind, those that went to the city must have been infected by radiation sickness that spread to the other villages. “This city, Azsonraun, it must have been hit by tone of the nuclear missiles that ALIE used to try and exterminate humanity.”

“Not one missile Bellamy. Five.” “Five!” Bellamy questions with disbelief. “The stories spoke of how five streaks of fire, each from a different direction, coming together above the centre of the city. The sky burned for almost 20 years after that.” 

“ALIE would have had the exact same target coordinates for every missile, they would have collided with each other before exploding.” Not really understanding the technical speak, Roan just nods before continuing, “The clouds have covered the city in darkness since the fire went out, all that falls now is snow. Sun has not shone in Azsonraun since the fires stopped burning, nothing has grown there since before the skies burned.”

“Why would Nia want to go to a dead city?” Bellamy asks, “I don’t know, I was only 10 at the time, I did not understand the fights that my parents had. All I remember is that, in the middle of the night my mother woke me and led me to a horse. And then Liberti was behind us. And I never saw my father again. That is how our Civil War started Bellamy, my father declared war on my mother for dragging me away from him in the black of night.”

“How did it end?”

“With death, like every war ever fought. So many died in our war, thousands upon thousands, there weren’t enough trees to burn all of them. But the war would have continued onwards and more would have lost their lives.” Roan hasn’t answered his question, Bellamy turns his head to face the torrential downpour that was raining down around them, he listened to the slosh of mud as the horses powered through it. 

“Our war ended when Nia held my father’s head in her hands in front of his army. They had no reason to fight anymore.” Roan finished. “My mother had led a small silent force into Liberti and executed him in front of the entire city.”

\--

“Make sure you watch Roan. And remember, Love is Weakness.” Nia stood proud and confident in the trees that surrounded the tall wooden walls of Liberti, the dark of the night sky concealing them. Nia turned to nod towards the woman that was crouching in waiting behind her. “Yes my queen.” Was her only response as she silently surged forwards, no leaves or twigs crushed beneath her feet, it was as if she were simply a ghost. She hefted the long spear above her head, brought her arm back and sent the spear sailing right up into the chest of the guard standing on the low wall with his back to the forest. His body fell backward over the wall to land with a dull thud on the dry leaves.

“Move.” Commanded Nia, the rest of her small troop charged the wall, 3 with hooks that had ropes attached to the end. The swung the hooks in their hands and sent them flying up and over the wall. Pulling to make sure that the hooks wouldn’t give, the three sprinted at the wall, using the momentum to climb the rope, standing triumphant on top of the wall in a matter of seconds. Roan and Nia went last after the rest of the troops were crouching low on the wall, careful not to be seen by any onlookers from bellow. “Move.” 

Nia led her soldiers as they stalked across the wall, tracing around the perimeter of the city until they reached the large building that Nia had used to know and love. Now it was only a bad memory, it had been her home, now the home of the man that had chosen to betray her rather than support her. The soldiers jumped the few rooftops that separated the wooden barricade and their objective, none faltered, and not even the sounds of feet on tiled roofs were heard. Finally they reached the building and they dropped to the ground, the mostly-dark empty street was lit by the occasional torch. Nia lead them to a side door, one of the soldiers knelt down to pick the lock while the rest of them drew their weapons and adopted defensive stances, preparing for the fight that they were about to face.

They entered into a dark store room, Bellamy couldn’t see for a few seconds until one of the soldiers moved forward to open the door, letting in the torchlight from the adjacent room. As silent as the shadows that danced across the walls, the soldiers exited the store room and each began to branch of into different directions, just like the queen had planned. Nia was left alone with Roan, the last time he’d been in this building he had only been a child. Yet still it was as familiar to him now as a grown warrior, he couldn’t explain it but he knew exactly where they were going when Nia led him down a well-lit corridor. He even recognised the landscape of a bright metal city that decorated the wall on his left. He recognised it instantly as the city that Nia had raised him in, yet here it looked like it had been so much more then what he knew.

Nia pushed open the heavy oak door before her, the doors creaked on their hinges as they bounced off of the concrete walls. Nia, now no longer caring about anyone hearing, confident that her soldiers had done their job, stalked towards the still sleeping figure on the large bed that occupied most of the room.   
Ripping the sheets off of the bed, Roan heard the light slam of a sleeping body colliding with the hard wooden floor. “What the…” The man starts out but stops immediately when he feels the cold steel of a blade pressed to his throat. “Nia.” He greets her, “Please do come in.” His voice is filled with the same light cynicism that Roan had remembered of the years that he’d lived with his father. 

“Surrender Ekon. End this war.” Ekon chuckles as he lifts his lithe body up and off the floor. He stood at least a head taller than Nia and some still above Roan. Completely ignoring Nia’s demand Ekon turned to his son. “Roan, it is good to see you.” Despite his stature, Roan recognised the soft and tender voice that had read him stories when he had nightmares, so long ago. Though the only light in the room came from the moon breaking through the window, it was enough for Roan to be able to see a small tear forming in his father’s eyes, nearly 15 years apart had been hard on Ekon. His father moved to try and hug the boy but was halted when the blade at his neck broke the skin causing a tiny trickle of blood to drip down his neck and stain his loose white jumper.

“I missed you too of course Nia.” He says, standing straight again, looking down on her with disappointed eyes. “End this.” She repeats. The disappointment turns to fiery rage as he takes a deep breath. Roan expects the man, no his father, to start shouting and screaming at her, but instead his voice is quiet and focussed, and it only makes Roan more afraid of him. “You stole my son. In the middle of the night. Did you really think that I would let that pass Nia?”

“It was for his own good.”

“Was it? What lies have you used to corrupt my son, our son? What pain has he endured under your care?”

Roan doesn’t say anything, for either his mother or father, it would not help the situation if he agreed with the man that had a blade to his throat. He stood still, no weapon drawn and no defensive stance, he simply watched his parents, one trying to kill the other, the same way it had been for most of his life.

“That’s enough Ekon, if you will not surrender willingly then you leave me no choice.”

“There’s always a choice Nia, but you will never choose the on that doesn’t benefit you.”

Ekon turns to face the door that Roan and Nia had entered through, Nia following closely with the blade now wedged in the middle of his shoulder blades. Roan turns to the windows to see very small rays of sunshine as it begins its slow climb over the horizon. Walking out the door, Roan followed the corridor until they entered a medium sized courtyard with no roof above it. Kneeling with their hands tied behind their backs are 5 soldiers, each with a hood over their heads. Standing behind them are the black clad warriors that Nia had led over the wall.

She nodded her head and the warrior that stood behind the first soldier in the line stepped forward and drew a large axe from their belt. Before Ekon could even say anything the soldier grunted while bring the axe down with crushing force into the skull of the hooded guard. There was no screams of pain or mercy, the only sound was that of their skull being caved in by the sharp axe. Roan recoiled in shock and struggled to not vomit, he had been trained all his life to fight, but he had never attended an execution before, and now he can promise that he will never go to one of his own will ever again. Fragments of skull fall into the splatters of blood, Roan can’t stop himself from isolating every single splash as bone meets blood.

“Surrender Ekon, or I will kill all of them, and then I will make everyone in the city suffer the consequences of your pride.” Ekon only sunk his head to the ground, but he remained silent. Nia was about to gesture for her next soldier to proceed when the guard spoke up. “Our king does not war with you for pride Nia, he wars because you stole the most important thing he had ever held.” Ekon stares with tears in his eyes at the soldier who had chosen to speak in his honour, she kneeled with her back straight, and he recognised her as the door guard that had only begun a shift on his home a week ago. 

“No!” Screaming for mercy, Ekon watches as a sword is quickly pushed through the soldier’s heart, silencing them forever. Heartbroken, he watched her dead body fall to the ground with an underwhelming thud, a pool of blood quickly spreading from her wound, until it has begun to brush against his bare foot. “Please stop Nia.”  
“Surrender and end this silly little war that you insist on waging for no reason.”

“You would wage the same war Nia and you know it!” He screams back at her, desperation evident in his pleas. Nia just sighs and nods to the next soldier in line. “Stop!” Ekon shouts to Nia’s soldier but the man under the mask ignores his protests as he stabs a blade through Ekon’s next guard. The sudden intake of breath is quickly silenced as yet another body hits the concrete floor.

“Have you seen enough now Ekon?”

“Yes.” The man, now on his knees in front of his fallen comrades, eyes wet with tears of sorrow over the stupid losses. “I surrender Nia, just don’t hurt anyone else. Please.”  
A blade curves its way around the next guard’s throat, the man under the hood gargles and splutters as his throat and lungs are filled with his own blood, he tries to cough it up, splattering it on the floor through his hood. “You promised!” Ekon spits at Nia, who only presses the blade into his back, drawing blood again. In the next second the guard’s lifeless body falls into the same space as his coughed up blood. Ekon tries to lurch forward as Nia’s warrior moves to his last guard. “Don’t. He is innocent.”

The soldier stops in her path, but it isn’t because of Ekon’s pleas, on the guard’s hand she notices the beginnings of a tattoo that she had only ever seen on one other person. She jams the blade through his body, but she misses his heart on purpose. He screams in pain as he falls forward and begins to squirm and scream in pain as blood floods from his wound. Nia stares in disappointment at her soldier. “Restrain her.” Nia orders, and in the next second her own warrior was being held back by the other soldiers. Nia walked towards the bleeding man as someone quickly replaced her holding Ekon down.

The man squints as the hood is ripped of his head to reveal the scorching sunlight that shone down through the open roof. “Who is he?” Nia questions her restrained warrior, not breaking contact with the man who is glaring intently at her while trying to keep his pained squirming to a minimum. “He is my husband, My Queen. You cannot ask me to kill him.” 

“Hella!” Shouting in surprise he turns to try and see his wife that he had longed for so many years, but he never sees her face, as soon as his eyes leave the queens she slices quick and true straight through his neck. “Michel!” Her screams are filled with pain, she watches his head lol forward until it leaves his shoulders and bounces of the porcelain tiles, his body soon follows. The head rolls until it sits at her feet, open yet empty eyes stare up at her full of hope and possibility. She tears herself away from them, she can’t to bear to look for one second. But Nia doesn’t give her a choice. Nia’s nails dig into the jaw of Hella and drags her head down until it is staring right at the head. “Look at it Hella, look at you weakness.”

The woman sobs and sniffles, a tear falling down to land on the cheek of her husband. “Answer me!” Hella doesn’t hear her anymore, lost in the eyes of the man she had loved with all her heart she doesn’t even notice when she’s forced to her knees and her head is held above he husbands. Her eyes never leave his as Nia’s blade comes down clean through her neck. She doesn’t die screaming or in pain, she had died the second her husband had. Her head joins his on the cold floor, and she is at peace, with him.

“You’re a monster Nia!” Ekon spits at her feet, “How could I have ever loved you!” with no one left to loos Ekon lets loose with his barrage of screams and obscenities. Her stoic face doesn’t change as she grabs his arm and leads him to the stairs on the other side of the courtyard, leaving the dead bodies to rest untouched on the floor like dirt. 

Roan looks down at the bodies that litter the floor, there is no part of him that feels that this is right, but he dare not question the woman that commanded it. Otherwise she would do the same to him if he dared. Drips of sweat fall from his brow mixing with the blood at his feet. Never in his life had he ever felt fear, not like this, he had never been had to bare to witness this, he wondered how he still held his stomach in. 

There is nothing he could do for them, but be satisfied that they at least died quickly, Nia’s reputation for torture was hardly something that was exaggerated throughout Azgeda’s army. As he turned to follow the rest of the warriors he was able to smell the bodies, their sweat and fear was pungent in the air around him. He ran to the stairs, unable to stand it anymore.

Heading up the stairs, unable to takes his eyes of the sets of bloodied footprints that coat the stairs, Roan follows them until he reaches a ladder. The rungs too are covered in the blood that now made up one large pool in the courtyard below him. Queasy was definitely an understatement as Roan grabbed the side of the ladder, not touching the rungs and began to climb. 

The early morning sun blazed down upon them from the pinkish-red sky above them, Roan faced away and covered his eyes only to see his mother standing tall and proud with her four remaining warriors behind her, standing as still as a statue. Walking up behind them, he was amazed at the glorious view. The sun shone down warmly on the red rooftops that spotted the city, with the sun behind them Roan saw their large shadows looming over all the buildings before them, they were large and menacing to Roan.   
Choosing to look away from their shadows he looked to the ground that was a few floors below them, he could see hundreds of people below them, warriors and guards between the civilians, but all with their focus locked on the figures that stood on the roof of their king. 

Nia walked forward with her husband next to her, his face was contorted in anguish and rage, while Nia’s was blank, like she felt nothing. She rested her hand on Ekon’s shoulder and began to apply pressure, slowly forcing him into a kneeling position. 

“Liberti! Hear me! I am the queen of Azgeda! This war has been won!” She screams out over the crowd, yells and shouts of uproar are her response. Roan can see the weariness in her eyes as she turns to face her husband. “You always were my weakness Ekon.”

“You were my strength Nia.” He whispers solemnly. Roan watches Nia draws her sword as the crowd falls silent. “Mother wait!” She doesn’t hear him, with one true and swift motion Nia brings her razor-sharp from behind his head and right through.

Nothing is heard for several seconds as Ekon stays perfectly still, until Nia rests her hand gently on his head and digs her fingers into his curly black hair until she has a firm grip. There is no resistance as she raises his lifeless head up for the crowd to see, one of the warriors jams his foot into the headless man’s body, pushing it over the edge. Roan watches with heartbreak as it flails in the breeze to land with a resounding thump.

\--

“That is how our war ended Bellamy.” the rain splashing down into the already sloshy mud is the only sound the men hear as Bellamy tries to comprehend everything that Roan just told him. “I don’t… I’m sorry Roan.” Bellamy is genuine, though he would hardly consider Roan his friend, it doesn’t mean he can’t feel empathy for what the man’s mother was capable. “It is in the past Bellamy. Nothing can change it now. I can only be better. You should probably rest up.” Roan says as he quickly leans his head out of the car to look at the sun which was hanging low in the west. “We won’t get to the capital before tomorrow.”

His passenger took the hint that Roan didn’t have anything else and turned his head to the side after pulling his hood up again. When he closed his eyes he saw the bodies again, only now there were new ones, just the one’s Roan described to him, he saw the heads rolling towards him and he jumped as his eyes opened.

“On second thought sleeping might not be the best idea.”

\--

Bellamy jerked awaked screaming just before a severed head landed on his own. He was gasping in the chilly air as Roan turned to face his travelling companion. “Good dreams?” Roan asked.

No response came and Roan chuckled to himself before turning back to the path ahead of him. It was no longer raining but the mud beneath the horse’s hooves was thick. Pushing the heavy blanket that had appeared around his body onto the floor and pulling his thick coat tighter around himself to stave of the extreme cold his body was feeling, Bellamy asked “How long was I out?”

“Most of the trip really, we’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Are you ok Bellamy?” Echo asked as her horse trotted alongside the carriage, he hadn’t even noticed her when he’d awoken but looking at her now he can see that her hair is still damp and frizzy, she has it tied back off of her face with multiple braids. Managing to calm his breathing down after his nightmares Bellamy answered her question. “Yeah, Echo I’m fine.”

“You’re a bad liar Bellamy.”

“I know.”

An awkward silence fell over the convey but it didn’t last long as the carriage soon began its climb over a short hill. Looking past Echo Bellamy realised what had been missing. Life. He looked all around him and there was nothing, no trees, no grass, not even ants showed themselves. All that surrounded them was a desert of ice and ash. He didn’t have time to study it before they reached the peak and Bellamy saw the city.

Or what was left of it. There was no colour to be seen, it was if Bellamy was looking at a lead drawing of the city. “Welcome to Azsonraun Bellamy.” 

Bellamy was blown away by the height of some of the buildings, the only other he’d ever seen was the commander’s tower in Polis, and that was dwarfed by some that lay before him. The tops of the taller buildings all looked as if they could have reached into the dark clouds that hung above them, but the tops must have been swallowed by the scorch of nuclear fire, leaving nothing in its wake. Other shorter buildings looked like they were in better condition, but the nuclear inferno clearly had been destructive. The signs of the blast were evident there too as Bellamy couldn’t see a single building that didn’t appear to have been charred by the flames. On the ground he could see more debris than buildings. And in some places there was no building at all, only the concrete and rubble that had once been. Looking now, Bellamy saw large bits of rubble tear away from one of the tall building, smashing into the ground and disintegrating into ash. It was the only sound he could hear apart from the carriage. There were no sounds he realised, no animals of any kind except the horses. Only the feint remnants of the wind that had accompanied the storm. 

As they reached the bottom of the hill Roan led the carriage to a sturdy looking wooden bridge that stretched over a large frozen river that separated the land. Bellamy looked out over the carriage at the frozen streams of water that run under the bridge. Looking down into the frozen river Bellamy tried to see even a single fish through the ice but it was no use. The ice must have been so thick that seeing through it wasn’t possible, he thought. Bellamy turned back to see the crumbling remains of the city were fast approaching. The damage was even more prevalent now, each building was covered in so many layers of ash and soot that all colour had been erased. The carriage soon became a very bumpy ride as the wheels were dragged over small rocks and slivers of concrete. The roads beneath them were covered in cracks and tears, as if the ground had ripped open so many times beneath it. The faint shreds of white lines could be seen leading them down the road further in to the city. On either side of them were cars that were similar to the rover back at Arkadia, Bellamy looked through the shattered holes where windows would have once been to look inside the vehicles, only more ash welcomed his sight, it appears that nothing was able to escape it.

Sickness quickly took hold of Bellamy’s body when he saw the first one, than the second, than the third. Until they turned down a street that was littered with the bodies. “The city of Frozen Life.” He whispered, finally understanding. Surrounding the carriage were dozens of bodies, but they didn’t lie dead on the streets, rather they were locked in motion, their bodies were frozen in place by ash and ice. They looked like statues that had been carved out of stone rather than people, but there were too many, and all Bellamy could see was fear on their pained faces Bellamy reached out to touch one as they passed by but his hand was slapped by Roan. “Do not disturb their rest.” He said. Coming up ahead of them was a statue that was kneeling in the middle of the road, Bellamy could tell that it was a woman, she held something clutched close to her chest. A child Bellamy realised as they got closer. He studied her expression, her mouth was open and her eyes were slammed shut and the child was held to her chest as if her life had depended on it. Roan guided the horses around her, leaving her to rest in her silent scream in peace.

Bellamy took his time absorbing all the destruction that surrounded him but nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see. Roan turned a corner and pulled to a stop in front of a hole in the ground so large that it would have looked at home among the craters Bellamy had studied on the surface of the moon. The floor of the hole was jagged and torn, filled to the brim with parts of all the buildings that would have stood in its place a hundred years ago. Bellamy saw that the other side of the crater was further away from him then the distance of the bridge had been.

The carriage turned down a street that ran down some of the edge of the crater, Bellamy’s head remained fixed on the wreckage that lay down below, trying to comprehend what had once been. “It’s easier if you don’t think about it Bellamy. Believe me.” Echo says as she enters his field of vision, apparently knowing what he was thinking. Bellamy only nodded, she was probably right. But try as he might Bellamy can’t stop himself from imagining all the people that had populated these buildings, all the lives that had ended in a single instant, burned away in flames, all at the will of a computer. There was no point thinking about what ALIE had done, she was gone and her devastation remained, that was never going to change and that was how they had to live now.

Roan directed the carriage south and they rode through the devastation. Bellamy tried to look at the buildings that surrounded him but he wasn’t able to tell them apart, they were all just windowless husks, grey and burned. Bellamy’s history lessons from the ark returned to him now and he tried to tell what each building could have been, a restaurant, a shop, a home. There was no way to tell anymore, nothing about the buildings gave him a hope of guessing. Any defining features that could have once been had long since faded into nothing. In front of the shops were more of the people that had been frozen in death, all trapped in fear and pain, all trying to run from something that they had no hope of escaping.

The carriage rode on for a few more minutes passing innumerable bodies, before they reached an open area, looking around Bellamy saw a few statues that had managed to stay standing. Echo’s horse stepped on a piece of metal that clanged loudly in the silence as it fell back onto the ground, leaning out of the carriage Bellamy managed to scoop it up before they passed it. Bellamy used his sleeve to try and brush off most of the soot and dust that covered the sign, a few seconds he held it in front of him. “Battery Park.” He read aloud.

“Not anymore.” Roan chimed. Bellamy studied the sign for a few seconds more, seeing what he could learn about what this place had once been, before tossing it out of the cart onto the ground behind them. 

Another wooden bridge was ahead of them and Roan steered the horses to a stop just before they started to cross it. “We walk the rest of the way.”

“What about the horses?” Bellamy asked but his question was answered when a heavily clothed Azgeda warrior appeared out of nowhere and quickly grabbed the reigns out of his hands. Bellamy walked around to the back of the carriage he saw that Kyro had jumped down and was being helped by Echo to pull a still sleeping Axis out of the truck. “Shouldn’t he have woken up by now?” Bellamy asks.

“He was awake while you slept.” Roan answered to which Bellamy only nods his understanding. The four of them each had a corner of the stretcher now. As the, stable hand Bellamy guessed considering the lack of buildings, led the horses away, hey turned to face the most interesting building that Bellamy had seen. At the other end of the bridge they were walking to, was the largest statue that Bellamy had ever seen, mostly undamaged by the blast except for the top. Bellamy made out the figure of a woman holding one arm at her side holding a book, while the other reached into the sky, however what the hand had been holding had long since been lost. Her arm ended just below the elbow. Most of the face had been torn away, revealing the hollow inside of the head. What remained of her head was scarred as if someone had taken a knife to it, Bellamy noted a very distinct piece of metal that jutted out of the smooth mound that made up her remaining eye. 

The walk along the wooden bridge was merciless, they were completely exposed as the harsh wind began to pick up again, Bellamy struggled to stay warm, pulling his coat as tight across himself as he possibly could, and it still wasn’t enough. As the approached the statue Bellamy saw what had happened to the other half of the statues face. It was on the open ground that surrounded the statue on all sides. If Bellamy though the remaining side of the face looked torn up then he didn’t know how to describe this side. Sticking out of the ground, as if it had been planted, it was covered in so many scratches and tears, that the features were barely recognisable. The hole where the eye had been was bare now, the bottom half of the mouth had been torn, leaving the bottom lip locked in an endless scream. The eyebrow looked like it had started to melt as it had drops that fell down over the eye hole. The metal drops were frozen now however, giving the whole face the appearance of being burned alive while screaming from the pain. Bellamy guessed that it was a pretty accurate representation of what being trapped within a nuclear firestorm would feel like.

“Come Bellamy. Let’s get inside.” Bellamy walked up the stairs that led to an entrance way of sorts, he imagined that before the fire, these empty frames would have had glass filling them. Now though they were empty. Inside there were several fires raging in branched off areas of the main hall. The group turned left up a flight of stairs and came out into a large room that had two chandeliers filled with fire hanging from the high ceiling, providing light for the area. Bellamy saw several beds that were filled with resting people, Kyro lead them to one of the empty beds that was pressed against the far wall. There was a table next to it where they lay Axis down and quickly transferred him to the soft mattress of the bed. 

“I will see you later Bellamy.” Roan proclaimed before Echo grabbed arm lightly and began to lead him toward another flight of stairs going up that were next to the first set. Before they went up Bellamy turned to face the now sitting figure of Roan, he was hunched over Axis, his hand resting gently on the man’s shaved head while the other held a drink that Kyro handed him. The man’s mother then sat next to him. Echo tugged at the fabric of his clothes, when he turned to face her she gently jerked her head to the side indicating that she was leading him away from Roan. 

Emerging from the staircase they entered a thin hallway. Bellamy followed Echo as she led him down it until they turned right down yet another hall. She pulled up when they were about half way down it. Stopping in front of a door Bellamy read the number on it, “100”. He lets out a tiny laugh at the rather obvious joke. “Funny.”

“I thought so.” Echo responds before handing him a key. “I’ll come back for you later, rest up.”

“Thankyou.” Echo turns to walk down the hallway but stops when Bellamy calls her. “Echo. Thank you for helping me.” The girl nods once before turning and continuing along her path.

The room that Bellamy entered was small and simple but it was cosy. The worst thing was that it was extremely cold. It had warmed up when they’d entered the building but not by much. Bellamy looked on the bed to see piles of various types of clothes and blankets. Picking one up and wrapping it around himself he approached the wooden panel that covered the window. He unlatched it and grabbed it before it flung into the wall. The wind was strong apparently. Looking out Bellamy realised that he had a perfect view of the frozen city. From here it almost looked picturesque in a morbid fashion, but Bellamy had ridden through the streets, seen the frozen corpses. This was a city haunted by death.   
Yet he somehow didn’t feel a stranger here. No, the cold was foreign to him, but the environment itself, all the destruction and devastation that surrounded him on every side. It didn’t faze him as much as he had expected.

He slumped down onto the old mattress, it still had a small amount of bounce. He looked up to the torn and cracked wallpaper of the ceiling. There truly was nothing here that hadn’t been affected. As Bellamy lay here he realised ALIE’s goal, he knew she had wanted to remove humanity but the right word suddenly occurred to him. She had wanted to cleanse the world of humans. And she had certainly succeeded here, but not just with humans, with everything. Bellamy only hoped that being in this city could help him cleanse himself of all the death that dragged him down.

He hoped it would cleanse him of his pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I went a little overboard with Roan's flashback, but I really wanted to show what kind of mother Nia was so sorry not sorry.


	10. To Keep From Getting Burned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monty, Miller and Jasper are called back to the dropship by Kane to help subdue an increasingly erratic Ericson.  
> Meanwhile Clarke and Lexa awake to prepare to enter Polis, only to discover that four of their friends have shown up.

Monty

The mid afternoon sun shone down through the branches and leaves onto the three men that were sitting on a large wooden log that had long since been torn from the ground. Taking a drink from his canteen before wiping his brow, he stands up to stretch his body, having gone stiff from walking through the rough forest terrain for hours. Monty was enjoying the chirps of birdsong that played from high above them. Yet the tension that was built up between his friends was only hidden just beneath the surface. They sat as far from each other as possible, pretending as if the other didn’t exist. Monty sighed, glad that Miller wasn’t trying to kill Jasper now. Monty turned to look off into the darkness of the forest that they were about to head into. He heard the sound of running water crashing down onto rocks, the nature filled silence was almost placid before the radio hanging off his belt crackled to life, disrupting the serenity that surrounded them. “Monty. Come in.”

“We’re here Kane, we haven’t found Raven yet.”

“We need you back here, now.” Monty looked down at the two men that had raised their heads when the radio static flared up. Hesitating before responding, Monty looked for answers from the others that he knew they wouldn’t have. Miller looked just as confused as Monty imagined that he himself did. While Jasper was intensely staring off into the direction in which they were supposed to continue their search, clearly torn at the idea of having to abandon the search for his friend. “What’s wrong Kane?”

“Octavia, Lincoln, Indra and Becca, they were attacked…” Kane was stopped from continuing his explanation when Monty cut Kane short with a question full of concern for their friends. “Are they alright?”

“Yes they’re fine, they managed to slip away in the commotion. I’d guess that they’re heading to Clarke and Lexa in Polis. But we need you back here, the only other people here I trust with a gun are Harper and Bryan. I need backup. One of Pike’s men is trying to incite people to lead a search for Octavia, no one’s listening but eventually he’ll get violent.” Monty could hear the worry and fear loud and clear in Kane’s voice. Pike’s man had the older man rattled, and that was not a good sign. “What does he want with Octavia?” 

“He wants justice for Pike’s death. I’ll explain everything when you get back here but I need you to hurry. Kane out.” And with that the radio went silent. Concern and uncertainty ran around Monty’s head, someone wanted Octavia dead. None of them had seen her since she’d left for Polis a few days ago to take on ALIE. “Justice, is this guy serious? We need to leave, now.” Miller stated. 

“We can’t just leave Raven out here alone, she had no gun and only a few supplies. We need to find her.” Jasper protested. He used his hands to convey the urgency of his words, pointing out into the thick of the trees, indicating for his friends to look at what kind of environment they were in. Miller understood Jasper’s desire to keep looking for Raven, but his gut was telling him that they needed to help Kane, and he tried to persuade Jasper of that need. “We will come back out for her as soon as things are under control. Look Jasper Kane said this guy is dangerous, and he’s surrounded by unarmed people, that will not end well if we don’t stop him. Raven is strong, she will be fine for another day.” 

“He’s right Jasper, we don’t need another massacre, not now. We need to help Kane.” With Monty agreeing with him, Miller turned to face the way they’d come and started walking, Monty turned to follow and was close behind Miller before he realised that Jasper was still looking towards the sound of the flowing water. Monty knew, Jasper didn’t want to abandon Raven. Monty lightly tugged at Miller’s jacket to get his attention before walking back towards Jasper. Miller stayed where he was, and watched. Approaching his distracted friend, Monty spoke softly but with a point in mind. “Come on Jasper, It’s Raven, you know she can handle herself.”

“I won’t just leave her alone Monty. She’s our friend.” Monty agreed, he had absolutely no desire at all to leave her alone in this forest that had long since proven to be full of danger. But he knew that the threat of deaths from the dropship was more important, and at this rate preventable. “I know Jasper, believe me I don’t want to. But we have no idea how long we’re going to be searching out here for her. It could be days before we find her, Kane doesn’t have days.” 

Shivers went down the spines of the boys when they heard the loud cries of wild animals tear throughout the forest. The wails bounced off every tree, searching for an escape from the closed in forest, only to become so much more amplified and focused that Jasper’s heartrate jumped when they forced themselves into his mind where they ran rampant. He felt them swirl around inside his head, until he felt like he almost overwhelmed, and then they stopped. A few seconds of silence followed, not even the birds were chirping anymore. Then they started again, closer and even stronger than they’d been before. Whatever was howling was clearly excited. Jasper tried to determine where the sound was coming from, it was from the same direction as the sound of the crashing water. That settled it for him, something made that call, and from experience on this earth led him to believe that whatever it was, wouldn’t have the best intentions for his friend. “You two go back to the dropship. I’ll go after Raven.”

“What? No way, I’m not letting you go on your own. We need you Jasper.” Monty moves closer to Jasper with a pleading look in his eye, his hands have moved to firmly grab the pale boy by his arms. Jasper only laughed with sadness in his eyes at his friends attempt to avoid the truth. “No you don’t Monty. Now go. Don’t worry I’ll be fine.

“Whatever made those sounds is out there and you’re going to walk right into it.” Monty pleaded with his friend to see reason in his actions. It was a futile effort he knew, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

“It’s ok Monty, I’ll find her. I promise.” Jasper looked past Monty to lock eyes with Miller, with a simple single bend of the head from each man, they understood each other perfectly. 

“Take this then, since we’re going back.” Jasper smiled when Monty passed him the radio, but that smile quickly faded when he felt the cold metal of a pistol being pushed into his hand. When he tried to push it back into Monty’s hand his friend, with gloom in his eyes, Monty refused to accept it. “Please Jasper, I can’t let you go after her defenceless.” Monty pleaded with his friend, who sighed before hesitantly closing his grip around the cold handle. Jasper weighed it in his hand, getting a feel for it before pushing it into the back of his pants. “I’ll see you soon Monty.”

And with that he turned and started walking, with his shoulders slouched and head lowered, towards the sound of the water, not looking back at his friend, his friend who too had was letting his whole body sag with defeat. He had known Jasper all his life, but ever since Maya had died, the boy had been lost, within himself. He only wanted his friend back. Knowing that his friend won’t change his mind now, Monty shouts out, “Stay safe!”

Jasper stops and turns, Monty can barely make him out from the shadows of the other trees. He nods his head and then pushes through a branch of leaves at his head height that swing back to hide him from them completely. 

Miller walked up to Monty and rested his hand on the smaller boy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry Monty, he’ll be fine. He’ll find Raven and they’ll come back. He’s determined.” Miller remembered how the skinny boy had lead the 48 with courage and strength when the mountain men had come for them, he’d never given up. “Come on, Kane needs us now.”  
Miller turned and started walking. Monty stayed and stared almost longingly after Jasper, but he sighed and followed after Miller.

\--

Monty was jogging side by side with Miller through a particularly thick area of the forest, they had been mostly silent since their separation from Jasper. Only questioning which of Pike’s men they guessed wanted to hurt Octavia. Soon the sounds of the forest had asserted itself again, somehow louder than the heaviness of their falling feet on dry twigs and leaves. They had been running for half an hour, stopping only twice so far to drink. Monty looked to the trees and recognised them as being on the path from Arkadia to the Dropship. “We’re nearly there.” 

The boys were huffing heavily when they ran through the large wooden fence then encompassed the dropship, the inside of the wood still bore all the charred and burnt pieces of wood that had absorbed the fury of the fire that had saved them from the grounder attack months ago. Two groups stood in the centre of the courtyard, facing each other down as if they were two generals during a battle. Kane with Abi standing on one side while Harper on his other, her hand resting on her hip holstered pistol, ready to fire at the drop of a pin. On the other side was a man that Monty recognised as Ericson. He was crouched into a predatory stance with two knives held in either hand. He stood alone, rugged with his curly blonde hair flailing out of his head. Monty can see the black circles that encapsulate his bloodshot eyes, a scruffy and unkempt beard was covering his face, as well as the coat of dried blood coating the stringy hairs. Monty would describe the man as almost feral in appearance.

Monty was surprised by how unkempt the man was, he remembered passing by him up on the Ark in the skybox, as well as in Arkadia a few times, the man had always been known for how clean and fresh he kept himself, his hair had always been combed back and he’d been cleanly shaven at all times. He was, or at least had been, easily identified as a very militaristic man. His posture had been impeccable, back straight, arms by his side, and his head held high and proud. It was almost frightening how different a man he’d become. 

Looking passed the tense standoff, Monty could see that everyone else was standing inside the dropship. Some wore expressions of distress or worry, while others had interest and intrigue. The drastic differences between the torn and dirty clothes that Skaikru wore and the pristine white clothes of those that arrived with Becca from some facility, allowed Monty to easily distinguish between the two groups. And despite his wish to be able to ignore what he saw, he couldn’t. The facial expressions were nearly perfectly divided among the two groups, with most of the expressions of worry or fear coming from the people that had come with Becca. While those of excitement, came from the people that Monty considered his friends and family. And that worried him deeply, to think that only a few months ago they had been blissfully ignorant of violence living on the ark, now they were thrilled at the possibility of a fight.

“Ericson!” Miller shouted, getting the threatening man’s attention, as well as dragging Monty away from the thoughts that moved to the back of his mind, but not forgotten.  
With an animalistic sneer, Ericson spun to face them with the agitation of being interrupted written all over his face. He didn’t study them for long before rounding on Kane and starting a new sermon of aggravation and mockery that was clearly getting to Kane despite his obvious attempt to ignore it. “Called in your little pets for backup did you Kane? Afraid you couldn’t shut me up on your own?”

“Drop the knives Ericson!” Miller ordered. “Why should I? Afraid I won’t be safe? That I might hurt someone, like that treacherous little child that you’re protecting.”

“That’s enough Ericson! Please, you’re endangering everyone in your current state.” Abi pleads with the dangerous man. “Endangering. I’m endangering?” He spits back her accusations at her. 

Now turning to face the gathered crowd of people that were bearing witness to the dispute, knives brandished in an attempt to appear menacing. “Who’s more threatening?” He demands of them. “Me? All I want is justice for the murder of a good man. Or that grounder pounding bitch!” He stalks towards the dropship and is about to make his way up the ramp when he gets his answer. “You’re delusional Ericson.” Someone near the back of the crowd shouts. With his back turned from them, Miller brings his rifle up to take aim for his legs, but Kane sees Miller and tries to stop him from shooting by shaking his head. Monty turns to lower Miller’s rifle. “Don’t shoot, there’s something wrong with him. He doesn’t need to die.” Miller sighs and continues to keep his gun trained on Ericson in case he does something.

“Come out here and say that to my face!” Monty watches as Ericson, adjusts then readjusts his grip on his blade, like a snake lying the grass. Ericson took a few steps away from the dropship when he sees who walks out of the crowd, surprise then fury flow out from his body as he recognises the man.

“You were from Alpha station, Pike was your leader!” He shouts as Bryan begins his painful descent down the ramp to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Monty notices Miller lower his rifle at the sight of his boyfriend. Bryan just put himself in the firing line of a clearly disturbed person. With Ericson’s attention focused solely on Bryan, Miller calmly begins to sneak across the courtyard, until he is standing with Kane, Monty follows, but he is less cautious and doesn’t notice the twig underneath his foot until it is too late.  
All eyes focus on him, Ericson’s especially fill with worry and fear and he tenses. On instinct, he takes advantage of Bryan’s injury and in a flash he is standing behind Bryan with his blade pulled close to his throat. Bryan struggles for a few seconds against his new captor but his effort is quickly curbed when the blade starts to slowly dig into the flesh. 

“Keep back!”

“Hey hey, cool it Ericson.” Miller pleads, quickly lowering his gun to dirt floor and raising his hands to show he was unarmed. Meanwhile Ericson’s is panting and sweating furiously, Monty can almost see the veins in his neck pumping blood through his body at a hundred miles an hour. He was right, something was definitely wrong with him. Miller kept his eyes locked on his boyfriend, he said nothing but called out to him through his eyes, that everything would be alright, the dread in Bryan’s eyes broke Miller’s heart. “Ericson please drop the knife!” Miller screamed.

Ericson spun around to brandish his knife at those in the dropship, none had moved a single inch. He spun back around to face Kane, blood had begun to slowly drip out of his eyes, staining Bryan’s grey shirt. Ericson’s back had only been turned for a second but it had been enough for Abi’s keen and experienced eye to notice. On the back of his neck where pale skin should have been, there was black charred flesh. “The chip.” Abi whispered to herself in realisation.

“The chip must be warping his mind.” Abi murmurs just loud enough for the rest of them to hear. “How do we take him down?” Miller asks, desperate for a way to free Bryan.  
Ericson himself was breathing so loud and hard, almost as if he was having trouble getting air in. The clearly struggling man began to move around the group, towards the open gate that Monty and Miller had just come from, no one dared to move an inch seeing how Bryan was being held. Not to mention how stained his shirt was, nearly its entire left side was stained with the blood that was flowing out of Ericson’s eyes and mouth. 

The lanky, blonde man screamed out in pain when he tripped over a root that was sticking out of the ground, as he fell he reached out with his hands for anything that might halt his fall but found no place for purchase except with Bryan, whom he dragged down with him. Bryan who landed heavily on the man, knocked all the air out of him, as well as the blade from his hand. When Miller saw that Bryan was out of danger for the moment, he took his chance before Ericson could grab his knife again. Quickly lifting his boyfriend of the ground and pulling Bryan’s arm around his shoulder, Miller backed off while Monty grabbed the knife, all the while the man on the ground was moaning and shivering. Kane was about to place the ecstatic man in handcuffs, but jumped back in surprise when Ericson turned to lay on his back and unleash a bloodcurdling scream full of agony and torment. He didn’t stop screaming as his writhing on the floor became worse.

Ericson soon could not physically scream anymore as blood began to pour not just from his eyes and nose, now it flooded his throat and left him chocking and suffocating. Dying on the forest ground. Abi sprints to his side and drops her head to his chest. “His lungs are filling with blood. Jackson!” She screams for her nurse.

“Help me get him to the medical bay!” She instructs her younger friend who’d run out of the dropship. Monty, Harper and Kane all move to help lift the spluttering man of the ground. He is still violently shaking, striking out at any who come near him. Ericson even manages to land a fist right o Kane’s jaw. The older Kane grunts in pain but soon has the struggling man’s hands clamped tight to his side. The crowd began to spill out of the dropship in order to create space for the group that charged through, desperate to get the gasping man help. 

Rather than help the man that held his lover at knifepoint, Miller decides to stay out of the dropship, he delicately sits Bryan on the ground then drops down next to him, before pulling Bryan close to him. Closing his eyes and simply enjoying the warmth that tells him that Bryan is still with him, that he doesn’t have to say goodbye again like he did before the dropship was launched. Bryan chuckles at how tightly his boyfriend is holding him. “I’m not going anywhere Miller, you don’t need to smother me.” Miller smiles but keeps his eyes shut, and he responds in a light but flirty tone. “I’ll smother you if I want to Bryan.” Rather than argue, the pale boy just takes the chance to enjoy being close to the one he cared about, and being free of the threat of death.

Kane ripped the curtain open so that Abi and the rest could move unhindered into the medical area, which was now empty. Before moving to help Abi, Kane sneaks a quick look at the stained sheets of the bed that Indra had been resting in only a few hours ago. He is quickly pulled from his thoughts when Monty roughly bumps into him on accident while moving to grab something that Abi had commanded him to. Everyone was crowded around the bed, the man had ceased his struggling, his eyes were closed and he no longer coughed blood out of his mouth, now it only poured out unhindered. Kane took notice of the small pool that was forming around the base of his head, how tips of his blond hair were beginning to soak in the blood. 

“Stand back!” Abi ordered, hastily shoving everyone except Jackson and Kane out of the small, cramped area. Kane stood now, at the door to the medical area as he watched the operation. Abi plunged a small tube into the man’s chest, within seconds blood began to spit out of it onto the exposed skin of Abi’s arm. The doctor barley notices as she continued to work, using the tools that Jackson offers her with wordless synergy. Abi and Jackson, pull backwards when Ericson jumps forward out of the bed, and hurls blood onto the sheets between his legs for a second, the loud and desperate gasps for breath to refill his lungs quickly slow until the man’s breathing returns to normal. With no strength, and likely very little blood left in his body, the man drifts into unconsciousness, allowing Abi to guide him back to a rest on the bed. Abi’s huffs a sigh of relief, before she beckons Kane over. “I’ve drained his lungs. He should be fine.” 

When Kane is standing closely next to Abi, she reaches forward and gently turns the man onto his side, allowing his vicious wound on the back of his neck to become visible. “What the hell?” Kane exclaims.

“The chip, it’s the only thing I can think of. I remember Clarke pulled the chip out of my neck from the same spot.” Kane nods his agreement at the doctor’s assessment. “What do you think happened with the chip, the rest of the people that had a chip are fine?”

“My best guess, it incinerated itself inside his head. It explains his behaviour, the fire would have damaged his thought and motor control.”

“I remember Ericson from the skybox, he was harsh but he was never angry, not like he was just now. It’s not like him to demand blood. And I don’t think the rest of us are fine, I saw their faces. It was almost like they were itching to watch the fight.” Monty offered, entering the area after hearing their conversation and determining that it was alright to enter. The younger boy coughed in disgust when he saw the charred and burnt remains of the man’s neck. If Monty didn’t know better, he would have said that someone held a torch to his head. Kane understands what Monty was saying, he had noticed that none of Skaikru seemed particularly inclined to step in when Octavia had been threatened, in fact Monty was completely right. He had brushed it to the back of his mind, but he had seen several smirks and grins among his people. “It must be affecting their emotions as well, it made Ericson go nearly mad with anger.” Abi concurred.

“How did we not notice, something like that must’ve been painful.”

“It must have happened slowly, maybe starting the moment ALIE shut down. I can’t be sure. But everyone with a chip in their head could is in danger. Kane, I can’t look after that many patients here. We need to get to Arkadia before more of our chips burn this badly.” 

“We’ll carry him.” Kane reassured Abi, before exiting the medical bay. “Everyone!” He screams and a second later all the faces had turned to look at him expectantly. “We’re heading out. Now!” and with that the dropship began to empty, everyone having already been ready before Ericson attempted to murder Octavia. Kane walked out of the dropship to see Miller helping Bryan to his feet. “Miller I need you to cover the rear of the group.”

“Got it.” Miller nodded his head before grabbing his rifle from the spot on the ground where Ericson had made him drop it. Kane turned and re-entered the dropship to see Abi and Jackson carrying the same makeshift stretcher that they’d used to carry Indra from Arkadia after the Ice Nation attack. “Harper.” Kane calls the resilient fighter over. “I need you to stay close to Abi and watch Ericson, he’s only unconscious and we have no idea what he could do when he wakes up.”

“Yes sir.” The girl, like her friend is quick to follow Kane’s commands and moves to pick up the side of the stretcher, smiling when Abi turns to question the alleviation of some of Ericson’s weight. 

Monty approaches Kane, eagerly awaiting orders from the man that he had come to consider his friend over the past few months on the ground. “Monty, you’re with me at the front, we’re leading them home.” Kane starts towards the front of the large congregation but pauses. “Where’s Jasper?”

“He decided to keep searching for Raven. He didn’t want to abandon her.” Monty can see the distrust in Kane’s eyes, he knew that Clarke had told him about how Monty had betrayed them to ALIE. Without a word Kane simply turned and continued his stride.

Clarke

The warmth that surrounded and enveloped her made it incredibly difficult for her to want to move, yet when she opened her eyes, any desire to move instantly left her. Despite the early morning darkness that surrounded them, Clarke was able to look down upon the dark curls of Lexa’s hair, she had her head pushed deeply into Clarke’s chest with her ear resting against the spot just above her heart. Clarke had to lift her arm with the blankets on top to be able to see Lexa’s sleeping face. Lexa’s left arm was snaked up Clarke’s body, with her hand coming to a rest on the smooth skin of Clarke’s neck. The blonde hadn’t noticed it before but the brunette, in her sleep, was ever so lightly and gently stroking her. It felt wonderful to Clarke, not just the soft rubbing, but the weight of the woman as a whole, with most of her lithe frame resting on Clarke rather than the mattress, yet not heavy enough to hurt or make it hard for her to breathe. It was absolutely perfect. 

Clarke could feel Lexa begin to shift, small little movements, like wrapping her legs around Clarke’s more tightly, or moving her right hand until it was resting next to her face on Clarke’s chest. A small groan of displeasure escaped her lips, Clarke remembered the last time she’d saw Lexa sleeping, and she knew what those groans meant. Rather than let Lexa be forced awake by her nightmares, Clarke uses the arm that isn’t pinned underneath Lexa’s warm middle. Lifting the light fabric of Lexa’s shirt to give her room, Clarke begins to lightly massage Lexa’s lower back. After a few seconds Clarke falls into a rhythm that matches Lexa’s massage of her neck, finding the small dimples that sit on Lexa’s back, Clarke uses her thumb and finger to rub deep into the skin. Clarke can feel the heat of Lexa’s breathe on her face as it hitches at the unexpected contact. But soon Lexa is still, her groans have ceased and she rests easily again.

Deciding that it would simply be cruel to wake Lexa now, Clarke tries to delicately extract her other arm from beneath Lexa. She has almost completely removed it when Lexa sniffs, Clarke freezes in place but Lexa soon continues her rhythmic breathing. Once Clarke manages to get her arm free she lifts it and gently rests the palm of her hand on Lexa’s head. Even though Lexa was truly back in her arms, there was something that Clarke still needed to check, she pushed her fingers against the pulse point on Lexa’s neck. Clarke could feel the very subtle beat beneath her fingers, the thumps of Lexa’s heart quickly became all that she could hear. Allowing the sound to fill her, Clarke became lost in the comfort of Lexa’s body as she began to simply stroke Lexa’s hair out of her face, while her other hand continued its gentle massage on Lexa’s lower back.  
“I am here Clarke.” Clarke freezes when she hears the subtle whisper escape from Lexa. The brunette’s eyes are closed still, however Clarke notices the change in the rhythm of her breathing. “I am not going anywhere Clarke.”

“I know, I just…” Clarke doesn’t know why, she just needed to feel Lexa’s heartbeat for herself. Lexa’s eyes open and she lifts her head so that her chin is lightly resting on Clarke’s chest. Deep and vibrant green look into Clarke, unhindered as they always had, even when Clarke had tried to block Lexa, the eyes still found a way inside. She’d found it awkward at first, but now, it was just another reminder that the woman Clarke loved was lying here in her arms. 

“It’s ok Clarke. I know.” The blonde had missed the way in which Lexa had pronounced her name, she took the upmost care, as if the name was precious and fragile, like it would brake if not given the upmost care. Rather than try and stumble her way through an explanation, Clarke simply lifted her head off of the pillow and locked her lips with Lexa’s. Every time their lips had met before this moment, it had been because of fiery passion or an expression of desire. This was the first kiss that Clarke and Lexa had ever shared that was simple. It was simply an expression of love, no messages, no desires, just feeling. Clarke closed her eyes and simply allowed herself the opportunity to relax under Lexa who was climbing up her body so that her knees were resting on either side of Clarke. Long and luscious brunette curls draped down over either side of Lexa’s head as she leaned her forward to keep their lips connected.

For nearly half an hour they stayed like that, the early morning sunlight had begun to sneak in under the tent entrance. Lexa noticed the temperature increase as she saw the sun begin to rise, causing their shadows to fall onto the ground. They’re lips began to pull apart and Clarke could swear that they may end up bruised a little, they stayed close though as Lexa leaned her head down so that her forehead lay upon her own. “I never thought I would get to hold you like this again.”

“Shh Clarke.” Lexa lowers her head until it is resting in the crack between Clarke’s neck and shoulder, when she whispers again, it is right into Clarke’s ear. “You will never lose me again Clarke.”

Clarke’s arms instinctually came to wrap around Lexa’s midriff as she relaxed into the bed and basked in the new warmth that dawn was offering. One single thought was running through her head, If Lexa could remember nothing from the City of Light, then Lexa did not remember that Clarke had confessed her love. Though Clarke did love Lexa with her entire being, she knew that fact without a single reservation, she had said it under the fear of never being able to feel Lexa again. She had been given a second chance, not only to love Lexa, but to show Lexa that she was most definitely loved.

“We must get up Clarke.” The blonde simply groaned at the statement, she had been enjoying the soothing feeling of just holding Lexa, “You sound like my mother.”

“Thank you.” Lexa misinterprets Clarke’s tease as an actual compliment, Lexa had always had respect for the woman that had brought Clarke into the world. She remembered watching as Abi had resurrected one of her best soldiers after also curing him of a forced addiction that had been plaguing her people for years. Lexa watches Clarke roll her blue eyes at Lexa’s misunderstanding before chuckling a little. Lexa did not have time to question what was so funny before Clarke was sitting up in the bed and stretching her arms out and swinging them from side to side until she hears small cracks in her back. Next she swivels her head before turning to face Lexa who had slid her socked feet over the side of the bed to rest them on the rug that decorated the floor.

“Are you ok Lexa?” Clarke asks, seeing the slightly slumped shoulders of the Heda. Lexa sighs before standing and looking down at Clarke. “I am worried about Ontari. From what you have told me, she has no qualms with monstrous actions.”

“It will be alright Lexa. I will be with you.” A small smile manages to show itself on Lexa’s otherwise stoic face. “Yes you will.”

“Heda!” One of her warriors calls from outside the tent. Lexa turns on her heels to face the flap that allows entrance to her tent. Lexa sits on their bed and quickly ties up the laces of her boots. Clarke does the same, deciding that she should accompany Lexa. 

Clarke had to shield her eyes when the two of them walked through the tent, the light was tearing through the sky, seeping through cracks in the couds, and Clarke would’ve sworn it was bright enough to blind. Once her eyes had adjusted to the light, Clarke followed Lexa down the hills where she saw four of her friends were waiting for them, two of them sat atop Adelaide. “Octavia!”

Clarke ran up to her friend. “Why are you here?” She questioned, not expecting Kane’s team for a few days. “We couldn’t stay at the dropship, one of Pike’s men, he went crazy.” Lincoln explained, “Who is Pike?” Lexa asks of her soldier.

Clarke turns Lexa around with a gentle hand on her shoulder, knowing that Lexa would be aggravated by the remembrance of a sore memory. “Pike was the one that led Skaikru to murder your warriors. He died when Octavia stabbed him a few days ago.” Clarke can see the pain in Lexa’s face at the image of 300 of her dead warriors lying in the bloodied grass, their open bullet wounds still smoking. Lexa with barely dry eyes turns from Clarke to look at Octavia with what Clarke can only describe as pride. “You have sought justice in the name of Trikru Octavia. You have my gratitude.”

“I didn’t do it for you or your people Lexa.” Octavia sounds harsher then she means to, her anger at Lexa for nearly letting her die in Ton DC coming closer to the surface. Lexa recoils with the look of pride quickly being replaced by anger, that the woman would care so little for her people. “I’m sorry Lexa, but I killed Pike because he took what I love away from me.” 

Lexa lets her eyes dart to Lincoln, understanding obvious on her face. “I understand Octavia.”

And Lexa does, she wouldn’t even think to fault Octavia for her motivations, especially considering the proclamation of ‘Blood must not have Blood’ she made because Clarke didn’t want to see people hurt. Lincoln had been stolen away from Octavia and Lexa knows, nothing fills that void. Not anger, nor hatred, not even the blood that is spilled in its name. Costia had died so many years ago, but the emptiness still tore at Lexa’s heart, Nia’s blood had not appeased it. Nothing ever would, and that is why she is so desperate to protect Clarke. Not only because she loved her, but because losing her, would mean losing herself.

“What happened though, you said one of his men went crazy?” Clarke asks, still unsure of what happened, and wondering why Kane hadn’t radioed to let her know what had happened. “Do you remember Ericson, the prison guard?” Octavia asks, “I don’t know why but he wanted me to die for Pike, he came at me with knives. Kane kept him from chasing after us.”

Unclipping the radio from Clarke’s belt, she holds down the receiver causing loud static to blast out of the small device. “Kane. Kane please come in.” Clarke calls into the radio but there is no response. “Mom? Harper?” Clarke tries everyone she can think, guessing that Monty, Miller and Jasper are still out looking for Raven. “I can’t get a response. The signal in this one must be faulty. Where’s Raven when you need her?” 

“I’ll go back once Ontari is dealt with.” Lexa agrees, “I will go with you.” 

Clarke turned to the injured women that sat on Adelaide. “Why are you out of bed Indra? You should be resting.” Lexa questions her general. Concern easily noticeable in her tone. “I am fine Heda, I stand at your side.”

“You will go to the healer’s tent at once Indra.” Lexa commands her general in an almost dry tone, Indra puffs her shoulders as if getting ready to argue, before wincing in pain as her hand travels to her ribs. “Take her to the healer’s tent now.” One of the guards that had been standing a few feet away from the group, waiting for a command, took Adelaide’s reigns and begun to lead Indra and the horse away to another part of the camp. Before the horse can be taken away, Becca jumps down off of it, landing on shaky legs. Lexa nods at her predecessor with respect and greets her as such. “Becca Prom Heda.”

“Just Becca my Heda, I haven’t used that title for nearly 90 years. And I have no desire to start now.” Lexa nods her understanding, she is looking upon the only Heda in history to ever step down from the position without dying. Clarke approaches Becca and with healer’s hands begins to inspect the head wounds that Ontari had given her. “They’re starting to scab Becca, though they may scar a little.”

“That’s alright Clarke.”

The red in all three of their eyes was clear as day, they must have ridden through the night to have made it to Polis so quickly. Clarke feels a small pang of guilt, remembering the warm bed that she’d shared with Lexa that night.

“We will be moving in to Polis soon, my scouts tell me that Ontari has already entered the commander’s tower.” Lexa explains the situation. “All the ambassadors would still be inside.” Clarke added. “Ontari will be trying submit them to her will. They will not last long under her methods, they’re those of the Ice Queen.” Lexa concluded.

“I would wish to have you by my side Octavia, you also Lincoln. You are both formidable, and Ontari is especially dangerous when she is backed into a corner.” 

“Of course Heda.” Lincoln is quick to accept his Heda’s request for his aide. Octavia, however, is slower and only offers her accent to the offer by a quick nod of her head. Lexa turns to the woman dressed in black that stood to the side, intently listening to the conversation. “Becca, I would also be honoured by your presence.”

“Thank you Heda Lexa, but I have no desire to see Ontari again after what she’s done to me.” 

“Of course, I will send for you when she is a prisoner, for now you may use my tent.” Lexa uses her hand to gesture to the large structure that she and Clarke had just exited. “Thank you.” Becca turns around and walks towards the tent, her arms tightly folded in front of her to block out the chilly wind that had come in. 

“I will call for you when we are ready.” Lincoln and Octavia shook their head in the affirmative before heading off towards one of the nearby fires that Lexa’s people had kept burning throughout the night. “Mason, get Lincoln some clothes.” Lexa asked of her warrior. Clarke couldn’t deny that the early morning chill was starting to get to her, her braided hair was lightly flapping in the breeze. Lexa took hold of Clarke’s hand and led her back to the commander’s tent. The chill ceased once they were inside, looking over to the bed Clarke could see that Becca was already fast asleep in the warm fur bed. Clarke couldn’t blame her, she spent many sleepless nights in the forest during her self-ordered exile after the mountain fell. Lexa was walking towards the large stand that was occupying the corner of the room, next to it was a table with various tools and weapons displayed.

On the stand was the black overcoat that Lexa had been wearing the first time Clarke had met her, the unhooked belts hanging at the centre that had wrapped around Lexa’s midriff were torn in the exact same places as she remembered. While Lexa was analysing the weapons on the table, Clarke felt the fabric of the coat, it had the same soft feel that she remembered. Clarke’s attention was quickly taken when one of Lexa’s warriors called from the tent flap, “Heda, the troops are ready.”

Lexa sighed before grabbing her coat and slipping her arms inside, tossing her hair out over the collar after all the straps were securely fastened. Clarke, seeing that Lexa was getting ready, grabbed her armour that was resting on the table. The inside of the jacket was cool after sitting out in the night wind, but she found that it quickly warmed up. When Clarke turned around, she saw that Lexa was fully dressed, Lexa’s coat brushed the ground as she approached the weapons table. Before the City of Light, Clarke had never seen Lexa carry two swords, she’d wielded two against Roan but that was after stealing his own weapon. Yet now she grabbed the holster that held the two blades against her back. Lexa picked up a tiny piece of gold that was in the shape of a gear, and pressed it firmly against her forehead where it sat perfectly.

Clarke checked the mag in her gun, before flicking the safety on. Lexa held a very delicate looking dagger in her hands, the ornate hilt was painstaking carved out of leather, the outline of Skaikru’s symbol. “It was supposed to be a gift to Kane as leader of Skaikru.” The grip of the knife was brand new, like it had never been wielded. Clarke pulled the blade out of the holster to see that Skaikru’s symbol had even been engraved within the blade itself. “It’s beautiful Lexa.” 

“Wait, what about your war paint?” Clarke questioned the distinct lack of black surrounding Lexa’s eyes. “I only wear the blood of war when it is called for Clarke. Dealing with a rouge murderer most certainly does not call for it.”

“I do not know what Ontari will have planned, I do not trust her to fight honourably. We must be ready for anything.” 

Before Lexa turns to exit the tent Clarke holds her back by the sleeve. “Lexa before we go, there’s something you need to know about Polis.” Lexa is silent, yet Clarke can feel her urge to know what happened to Polis. “When Ontari became Heda, a lot in Polis changed, it isn’t how you remember it.”

“Different how Clarke?”

“People were butchered in the streets, strung up on crucifixes until they obeyed her, or ALIE’s will.” Silent rage filled Lexa’s body, the fire burned through her veins at the scenes that Clarke describes. Opting to save her rage for the one that deserved it Lexa calmed herself before murmuring. “Let us go Clarke, she must be stopped before anyone else suffers at her hand.”

“What about your shoulder plate?” Clarke holds the large piece of armour in front of Lexa, the orange sash of the Commander was folded neatly within it. “I am not Heda yet Clarke, I will don the Commander’s sash when I have earned it.”

And with that Lexa turns to exit the tent, Clarke rests the plate down on the table before following behind her Heda. “Octavia! Lincoln!” Lexa shouts out to her warriors whom quickly jump to attention and are standing next to Clarke within seconds. Clarke can see Lexa arguing with the warrior she knew as Mason.  
“But Heda, we have no idea what she’s planning, you can’t go alone.”

“I won’t be alone.”

“Yes Heda.” Mason turned away in despair, knowing from experience that it was useless to argue with the Heda once her mind was made up. Lexa, with vengeful fires burning in her eyes, turned and faced her group. “Let’s go.”

Lincoln had changed into a warrior’s clothes that suited him much better than the lab clothes he’d awoken in yesterday. They walked in two rows of two, Clarke and Lexa in front with Lincoln and Octavia following behind them. The fierce determination in Lexa’s eyes was frightening, Clarke felt a little sorry for Ontari for the firestorm that was headed he way. They quickly approached the large looming gate of Polis, only to find it open like Skaikru had left it a few days ago.

Lexa’s heart broke as soon as the streets of Polis entered her sight. The floor was covered in so much blood that it was hard to see the floor underneath. Lexa stood at the gates, tears were slowly dripping down her eyes. Clarke gently took hold of Lexa’s hand but she didn’t seem to even notice. Slowly they began to walk through, the soles of their shoes soaking in the red.

They soon entered the large courtyard that stood in front of the commander’s tower. And it was then that Lexa’s tears dripped to the ground to be instantly overtaken by the dried blood that pollutes it. Propped up in front of them was a large wooden x, and upon it was the long since dead body of a woman. There were nails drilled through her wrists with the dried blood stretching all down her arms. Her head was leaning forward with her eyes staring at the ground. Lexa’s grip tightened on Clarke’s hand as she approached the corpse. Lincoln and Octavia both lifted their hands to try and block out the gut churning smell that was emanating from the body. 

Lexa stepped up onto the platform holding the body, wilfully ignorant of the suffocating smell, she lifted the head so that the empty eyes were staring right into her own. Etched into the face is an expression of pure fear and misery, she probably died alone after all of ALIE’s slaves started climbing up the tower to stop Clarke. Lexa brushed her hands over the woman’s eyes, closing them. Then she ripped the woman’s hands free of the nails. The heavy body fell into her arms but Lexa didn’t even flinch as she carried the body over to a pile and laid the woman down flat on her back. Lexa dragged the woman’s hands over her stomach to make her look like she was sleeping. With a cracked voice Lexa grunts out, “Yu gonplei ste odon.”

Lexa repeated this same process with the five other bodies that were left to rot on the crosses that littered the courtyard. Never stopping to brush the few tears that fell from her eyes the whole time. 

When Lexa had paid respects to all the victims of ALIE’s brutality, they approached the entrance to the commander’s tower in absolute silence. Lexa couldn’t even escape the bodies of her people there, as yet another pile lay before her. Lincoln knelt next to the bodies. “These are fresher than the others, and were killed in battle.”

“Ontari!” Lexa cursed, the hatred for her fellow Natblida soaked her words. Clarke looked at the bodies that seemed to form a kind of perimeter around the tower. “They must have fallen.” Clarke concluded.

“Heda!” An excited call rang out from behind the four of them. Lexa turned, quickly brushing the wet tears from her face before a small body slammed into her. “Heda!” The same voice shouted again, it was a small child but Clarke had had barely enough time to analyse her features before the girl had wrapped her arms around Lexa’s lower chest in a tight and devoted hug. Lexa’s arms raised slightly in surprise at the child’s actions. But Lexa did not push her away, rather slowly lowered her arms to return the hug as best she could to the child that was about half her height.

“Heda Lexa.” A few adults cried out in surprise and joy before dropping to their knees in respect for their commander. An older woman with grey hair quickly approached Lexa, muttering apologies before unclasping the young girl from Lexa. “I am sorry Heda.”

“No. It’s alright. Please do not bow my friends.” Lexa’s voice was as gentle and warm as Clarke could ever remember hearing. The calm and soothing tone even allowed her to feel a little better about their surroundings. “My people, please, I ask you to gather the dead and prepare the pyres for our fallen. I will join you shortly.” 

In seconds all the people that had bowed to Lexa were scurrying about and lifting the bodies into the arms, with the care and grace as if they had been their own flesh and blood. Clarke can see the pride in Lexa’s eyes, but it is only on the surface. Clarke knows Lexa well enough to see beneath the surface, Lexa is nearly broken, she had tried so hard and suffered so much to bring peace to her people, and now it looked as if it had been thrown away within weeks of her death.

“Heda.” Clarke approached her lover and placed her hands on the girl’s arms, gently rubbing warmth into the woman. “Let’s go Lexa. Ontari will be brought to justice.”


	11. How To Make A Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ontari screams for her mother in a crowded centre, and it establishes a chain of events that lead her to Nia, and ultimately help her to realise her purpose in life.
> 
> This chapter is Ontari only, it is the first part, of two, of my own backstory for her.

Ontari – 20 Years Ago

“Nomon!” Ontari screamed out after slamming into the hard ground beneath her. “What a freak!” The small girl shouted out when she leaned down to look at the small shard of bone that stuck out of her blood soaked hand. Ontari’s parents soon came running towards her but the damage had already been done. Ontari stared down at the jagged bone that had torn through her skin, the thick black drops had already begun to fall and stain the ground beneath her, soaking into the concrete. Ontari’s blood, as dark as her ebony hair, dripped from her hand at the same rate as the tears fell from her eyes. Having grown up as she had, Ontari had been taught to only cry silently to not draw attention to herself, but the pain was so great that the young girl had cried out for her parents. The 5 year old girl had fallen out of the tree in the centre of the square, and now the rest of the centre stared at her with curiosity and wonder, as well as fear and suspicion. 

“Ontari, sweetheart I’m here.” Her mother knelt before her on the hard concrete, her rags soaking in the black blood that hadn’t yet polluted the ground. Ontari’s small arm instantly wrapped itself around her loving mother’s neck as she was swiftly pulled from the ground. With a sobbing voice and a tear stricken face, Ontari tries to explain what had happened. “We were only playing in the tree.”

“Shh, Ontari. It’s alright, let’s get you to Kyro.” Her tall father was quick to shush his distressed daughter, “Have you got her Kaelen?” he asked of his wife, she nodded and quickly began to head to one of the side streets that would take them away from the suddenly very crowded area. “Come on Symon.” Her husband followed but he couldn’t help but feel the stares of contempt and distrust that were drilling into his and his families backs as he followed the two women away. Even as they left the court, the whispers were already screaming at him, ‘what is she?’, ‘abomination’. The voice of the other child that had been playing with his daughter was asking her parents for an explanation. “Dad, what was wrong with her? Mom, why did you let me play with her if she was a monster?” He was a patient man, but there was only so much people could say about his daughter, the miracle that she’d been for him. As he was about to turn to face the family, he felt the soothing hand of his wife, her porcelain skin stretched across her strained body, her warm dark eyes begging him to make the right decision, for his daughter. He clenched his fists in anger at how he wasn’t allowed to protect his own child from the girl she’d hoped to call a friend.

Down the small side streets of Liberti Ontari’s mother led them, a path they had needed to follow only a few times before, always under the cover of night, and always wrapped in blankets to prevent others from seeing her blood. They had heard about the mutations plaguing the other clans, and knew what happened to the poor souls that suffered them. Ontari had broken her foot in the last village they’d lived in and within the hour they’d been chased out, after having nearly being burned alive inside their own house when the people had found out. It had been the third time in the 5 long years that Ontari had lived. They’d come to Liberti in the hope that the bigger city would be more willing to ignore her mutation, they’d been lucky so far. Though it didn’t seem that luck would last much longer.

“Kyro!” her mother shouted out for the healer as her father pushed the door open. In the few minutes it had taken them to reach the healers house, she had managed to stop crying, but she sniffled every few seconds, the closeness of her mother was making her feel better. “Ontari!” The healer greeted with the same kindness and warmth that she always had, her soothing voice instantly helped Ontari to calm. Gently lifting the girl’s broken hand up to the candle light to get a better look, Ontari felt the experience and wisdom in the perfectly still healer’s hands. “What happened Ontari?”

“I fell from the tree.”

“Oh that’s no good dear, come with me.” Kyro quietly said as she led the young girl over to a table with better light from the roaring fire. Ontari hopped up onto the table, her hand never leaving the firm but light grip of the healer. Ontari watched her blood slowly spread itself across the healer’s dark skin, yet Kyro paid it no mind, as if the blood were red, not black, like all her other patients would have.

“Now the good news is Ontari, this will be quick. The bad is that it will hurt.” Ontari, being no stranger to pain only nodded her head before turning away from the kind and sympathetic smile that Kyro was offering her. She felt the skin of her mother’s hands as she cupped her face. “Look at me Ontari.” She whispered, staring at the near mirror image that her daughter was. Ontari did as she was told, her eyes stared unwaveringly at her mother’s. Until she wailed in agony as she felt her bones being reset. Tears began to drip from her eyes again, but they were quickly brushed away by her mother, whose on tears had begun to fall at the sight of her daughter in pain. Ontari hadn’t noticed but her father was standing next to her, keeping her upright with his strong arms around her waist.

“It’s ok Ontari, the worst is over now.”

“You hear that sweetie, the worst is over. You did great.” The warm hands hadn’t moved from Ontari’s cheeks, they were now soaked in her tears but after hearing that it was over, Ontari surged forward and wrapped her good arm around her mother and then around Kyro. A few minutes later and Kyro had finished with a primitive sling that held Ontari’s hand close against her chest. “I would have her stay here for the night so I can check on her, but I have a lot of patients already, bring her early tomorrow morning so I can check her.” Kyro requested of her parents while Ontari sat on the wooden table. She hadn’t really noticed before but the rest of the wooden tables that occupied the old house were all full with people, most of whom were asleep, but some who were awake and watching the commotion very intently.

Before they left, after her father paid using some valuable coins from the old world and the older healer had given her parents instructions for how to look after Ontari’s hand, Kyro knelt down so that she was eye-level with the little girl. “You did really well Ontari, I’m proud of you.”

The little girl couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face at the praise coming from the older woman. Even a small giggle escapes her. Again the older woman flashes her that calming and warm grin. Her mother was quick to remind the forgetful young girl of her manners, “What do you say Ontari?”

“Mochof Kyro.”

“Pro Ontari.” 

Ontari walked towards her parents who were waiting by the door for her, she was gently clutching her wounded arm, letting out a small hiss of pain every few steps. She looked up into the sky above them only to see the black clouds that had often plagued the skies of her new home. Before she stepped out into the downpour of the heavy clouds, Ontari turned to wave at Kyro who happily returned the gesture.

Ontari’s father picked her up and the three of them quickly began to make their way to their home. She was glad that her father was carrying her because when Ontari looked to the ground, all she could see was muddy water, it looked high enough to come up to her ankles. The winds that were tearing down the street were strong and freezing cold, her parents had to stomp forward simply to move their feet. Ahead of them Ontari saw a family struggling against same winds as them, she even saw the little boy get blown over, and he would have likely been carried a lot further had the mother not maintained a strong grip on his wrist. When Ontari’s family reached them, she could see the venom in their eyes once they recognised her. The mother’s face contorted in anger and contempt, she practically shoved her son down the street before spitting at her father’s feet before following. “It’s ok Ontari, don’t worry about it.”

Despite her father’s encouraging words, Ontari had been getting looks like that all her life, she hadn’t expected this place to be any different.

A few minutes of struggles with the elements and they had finally reached the building that they’d moved into only a few months ago. The large wooden door had always been intimidating to Ontari as she’d never been able to open it alone. 

The young girl blinking very frequently, her father saw it and laughed a little, Ontari couldn’t help but notice that the happiness didn’t reach his eyes. Something was wrong, Ontari had seen that look enough times to know what it meant he was worried about her, and what would happen to her. She hated how her presence made him so stressed and overly sensitive to the people that could be his friends if she hadn’t been born.

Ontari stayed silent and tried to ignore her thoughts as they headed up the rickety stairs, being careful to avoid the puddles that had formed under leaks in the ceiling. The building they were in once apparently held large numbers of people as every room had beds and remains of a bathing room. They walked down the long hallway to reach their room, Ontari spent the little energy that she had appreciating the pattern that had been sown into the carpet her father walked on, black squares trapped within white circles. Ontari could hear shouting and crying coming from behind one of the doors and suddenly two small children were running out of the room back down the hall both with bruises covering their bodies. She couldn’t help but look at the old man that was standing in the doorway, the smell of alcohol quickly invaded the hall.

Their room was all the way at the end of the long hall, the window next to their door was mostly empty of glass. Thus most of the carpet was soaked with the rain that was being blown in. Ontari pushed herself further into her father to try and stay warm. Her mother soon had their door open and they were scurrying into the dark and dusty room.

Kaelen walked to the large bench that stood at the end of the bed that took up most of the room, a few small candles sat there, and soon the light from them was illuminating the small room. As Symon gently put Ontari on the floor, she noticed how the shadows danced around the room, off the cracked wallpaper and broken glass of a picture frame. The wooden door that covered the space where a window, rattled against the simple lock that was keeping it from swinging open from the heavy winds raging outside. Kaelen breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled her soaked coat of and hung it on a jagged piece of metal that was pushed through the wall. 

“Ontari honey, you should go lie down, get some rest.” Ontari yawns and nods at her father before turning to the wall that looked as a tornado had been thrown at it. Most of the dark wallpaper had been ripped away to reveal the cracked and chipped concrete beneath. Ontari place her hand in one of the large holes and began to slowly climb using the various cracks and gaps in the pavement to reach the large hole in the ceiling that led to her small room. The concrete beneath her foot gave way and smashed to the ground bellow, causing Ontari to yelp in surprise before her body crashed into the wall. She groaned as her injured hand was wedged between her body and the jagged wall. In an instant her father was behind her with his hands acting as supports for her feet. “Mochof nontu.”

With her father helping her Ontari had soon reached the edge and pulled herself up into the tiny space. The small attic was less a room and more so a small hole, the only piece of furniture in the room was Ontari’s bed of rags which took up the entire floor space. The bed was as tall as she was and only a few feet wide. Ontari sat on it and dangled her legs over the edge into the main room below her. Tired, but not quite ready to sleep, Ontari called down to her parents below. “Nomon, Nontu.”

“Sha Ontari.” Answer Kaelen.

“Will we have to run away again?” The room’s atmosphere seemed to die at the child’s question, only the raging winds and rains outside could be heard. Ontari couldn’t actually see her parents whom she assumed were sitting on their bed, but if she could, the child would have seen a tired and near broken father looking to his teary eye wife, pleading for an answer on how to tell a child that she would likely have to spend her life running from people. Barely managing to conceal her croaky voice in her answer Kaelen answered her daughter, not sure whether she was lying or not, “We’ll be alright Ontari, go to sleep.”

“Reshop.”

“Reshop Ontari.” Her parents responded together. 

Ontari swung her legs onto the old mattress that had long since lost its bounce. The itchy woollen blanket that she had to use to keep warm irritated her but the questions running around inside her mind were enough of a distraction for her to not notice. ‘What happened to me?’, ‘What did I do?’, ‘What did I do to bring suffering to my parents?’ 

No matter how Ontari struggled with the questions, there were no answers. There was no explanation for why she had been chosen to suffer the curse of her own body. No reason for why her parents, normal and caring people, were made to live in fear of what others would do to them because of the colour of their daughter’s blood. There was no answer for why she alone bled black.

Sleep soon took over her body and Ontari was allowed the peace of her own dreams. The one place where she was allowed to live open and happy, with no one to scream and proclaim her demon, or monster. Tonight though even her own imagination seemed determined to torture her. 

She was back in the town centre, the bone again protruding from her hand, except now when she screamed for her mother, she did not appear. Instead more people poured in from the streets, until there was no space left unoccupied. Ontari screamed again and again for her parents, for Kyro, for someone to come and help her. But no one came, the people that surrounded her all stood still and silent, their eyes locked unwaveringly on her crumpled form. The pain raging from her hand was only amplified by her screams for help. As she began to lose her voice from screaming, the whispers began to seep into her mind. No lips moved but she heard the voices of the people. Monster and freak, diseased and disgusting. No reprieve came for her as she shuffled back against the tree trunk and brought her legs up to her chest as she tried to hide her face. 

When she opened her eyes to see if her surroundings had changed, she instead cried out in shock as her hand looked like it had been bathed within her own blood. There was no one around her anymore, and she was no longer in the town centre, instead she was in a large crystal clear lake under the black clouds. The cold salt water stung her body as she treaded water to stay afloat. Her blood covered hand plunged beneath the water to try and clean it off only to worsen the pain with salt. There was no escaping her blood, out it spread from her, polluting and infecting the clean water. She watched with distress plaguing her body as she went from treading water to treading blood. The lake stretched forever until it reached the horizon and it was all black. Ontari’s legs soon grew tired of moving and she began to sink, down and down into the black until she was blinded. Liquid quickly filled her lungs and flooded her body with the same blood that already flowed through her veins. Screaming was pointless, there was no one to hear her, and she only allowed more of her blood inside her mouth. She felt the last gasps of air begin to leave her body, until she had no air left to breathe, only the blood.

Sweat dripped down her forehead as she launched forward out of her bed, hitting her injured arm on a broken part of the wooden wall in the progress. It wasn’t just sweat that dripped from her, but tears too. Tears of fear and pain stained the heavy clothes she had to sleep in to stay warm. 

She searched for the comforting sound of her father’s obnoxiously loud snoring but was instead greeted by the sound of conversation below her. Ontari reached her head over the edge of the hole in her floor to try and better hear the hushed words her parents were saying. From the darkness she heard. “We can’t keep this up Kaelen. Someday the wrong person will see it and we won’t be able to run away.”

“She’s our daughter Symon! What are we supposed to do, leave her out in the cold and pretend like she never happened, after we worked so hard for our miracle?” The anger in her hushed voice sent chills down Ontari’s spine, but also made her heart do a little jump in rejoice, her mother wouldn’t abandon her by choice.

“No of course not! How could you think I would want that?” Her father defended himself. Ontari knew her parents were arguing about what to do with her, but she couldn’t deny the joy she felt in knowing that neither of them wanted to abandon her. “But we need help Kaelen. We need someone to protect us, who’ll look past her mutation.”

“Like who? Who would take us in, a poor family with a mutated daughter?” 

“I don’t know. There has to be someone. There have to be people who don’t care about the colour of her blood. There must be.” Ontari could hear the distress in her father’s voice, he had always been a passionate man, he only wanted a way to look after his daughter, and it was breaking him that he couldn’t. and it was breaking her that he needed to.  
The conversation died off and Symon’s snoring soon echoed up and into Ontari’s room. But all hope of sleeping for the young girl had long since been lost. Her father’s words, finding someone to take them in, not to mention her nightmares kept her awake for nearly the entire night, until her body gave her no choice but to sleep again.

\--

The winds were still biting at her skin as they walked towards Kyro’s house, but they were not as fierce as yesterday. The clouds above had mostly cleared leaving them with blue and grey skies. The early morning colours could still be seen in the east where the sun had risen only a few minutes ago. Ontari wore a ragged hood over her ebony hair and fair skin to hide from the glances from those that pass by, just in case they had been there to see her secret revealed the day before. While they were walking Ontari heard the laughter and sounds of play from nearby and when she turned to see several children playing with a small ball. Her parents continued to walk a few paces before her mother noticed that she’d stopped.

Kaelen sighed, understanding why Ontari had stopped. She’d had hope that yesterday would be the first day in Ontari’s life that she could play with the other children. Alas it was not. Kaelen rested her hands on Ontari’s slouched shoulders and gently began to lead the girl back to the path. “Come on Ontari, Kyro is waiting for us.”

Soon they were again inside the warm, fire-lit room that made up Kyro’s medical house. Ontari saw that most of the beds were filled with the same people as yesterday, and there didn’t seem like there was much of a difference in their conditions. Kyro gestures to two chairs near the door and offers them to Ontari’s parents. “Make yourselves comfortable, we shouldn’t be very long.” 

Kyro reached out her hand to the child, beckoning her closer. “Let’s have a look shall we?”

The older woman quickly undoes the bandage that she’d wrapped around Ontari’s hand yesterday to reveal a very nasty looking cut where the bone had been sticking out. “It’s looking good Ontari. Just wait here.”

Kyro walks off to a large cabinet that covers nearly the entirety of one of the walls. When Kyro pulls one of the doors open, Ontari can see shelves upon shelves of medical supplies, bandages and surgeon’s blades lined one side of the wall, while small glass bottles occupied the other. Kyro grabbed one of the latter as well as a fresh bandage and returned to the girl sitting on the bench.

Ontari’s head shot up when the other door inside the room quickly slams open, letting in sunlight that quickly filled the usually darker room. A small boy with pale skin and shoulder-length brown hair flailing behind him ran inside. Ontari can see a large cut had been torn into the boys clothing on his back. Before Ontari gets a good look, a shorter girl with dark skin and long ebony hair similar to her own followed the boy into the room and closed the door behind her. Kyro couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes when she saw the large cut on the boy’s back, “Alexis. What have I told you about playing near the rocks?”

“We were only walking on them Nomon, we weren’t running.” The young girl shrugs her shoulders at her mother who is staring at her with weary eyes, as if they’ve had this conversation too many times before. “Come sit next to Ontari, Roan, I’ll have a look at it.”

The boy does as he is told and is soon sitting on the large bench. Instinctively, Ontari hides her injury for fear of revealing her deformity to him. The boy offers her a small but friendly smile before offering his arm out in greeting, one which she cautiously accepts. His dark eyes dart to her concealed hand, but quickly move back to her face with curiosity in his eyes. 

Kyro is kneeling in front of the young girl, who Ontari assumes is her daughter, quietly scolding her, if the hushed but aggressive tone is anything to go by. As Kyro turns to the large shelf to get something for Roan’s injury, the girl turns and walks to stand next to the boy that just introduced himself. With a look of glum on her face she apologises. “I’m sorry Roan.”

“Don’t worry about it Alexis, I knew we weren’t meant to be there.” The girl chuckles a little at the devious smile that Roan flashed her. Alexis’ eyes then turn to her and Ontari instantly tenses at the fire that rages in the dark skinned girls’ eyes. It is not rage but rather determination that she sees. Ontari sees a girl that would do what is necessary without a second thought. Ontari flashes a nervous smile at the fierce girl, she offers her hand in greeting but the older girl hesitates. “I’m Ontari.”

“Alexis.” Her tone is a lot cooler than the one she used to joke around with Roan and it was obvious to the entire room that she wasn’t as open to new people as Roan. Sensing the tension, Roan tried to distract the two girls. “What happened to you Ontari?”

“I broke my hand.” Ontari tries to subtly pull her hand out of their view. Her interest piqued, Alexis shoots her hand out to grab Ontari’s wrist. The girl flinches and hisses in pain as Alexis’s grip tightens around her wrist as she pulls it out into full view. Ontari hangs her head in shame when her black blood is revealed to the other two children. Clenching her eyes she dreads the storm of insults she has long since grown accustomed to. But they never come. Slowly she cracks an eye open to see Roan leaning in close to her wound with genuine curiosity and interest in her hand, all concern about his own bleeding wound seemingly forgotten. Alexis is more sceptical but Ontari can still see the desire to investigate failing to be repressed by the girl.

A small drop of blood began to leak out of the cut, the black began to drag over her skin until it fell to the floor below. Roan’s eyes went wide at the sight. “What happened to you?” 

Rather than the attacking, vile tone that Ontari is used to when she hears that question, there is instead only youthful curiosity. Ontari can’t deny the surprise she feels, for the first time in her life, her body isn’t being seen as disgusting but as interesting. Ontari realises that she hadn’t actually answered Roan’s question when she looks up to see and expecting expression on his face. “I uh, don’t know. It’s always been this way.”

The door that the two children had slammed open, now opened again with considerably less enthusiasm as a tired looking woman with an icy glare on her face invaded the otherwise warm room. Roan’s enthusiasm and joy at finding a new friend instantly died when the woman set her sights on him. “My queen.” Kyro greets the woman with an honorary bow. One which is completely disregarded as the pale skinned woman walks right past Kyro without a second glance. Ontari lowers her head respectfully at hearing the woman’s title, now recognising her as Queen Nia. It clicked in her head at that instant, the boy next to her was Roan her son. The queen swiftly approaches the boy with a tired, bored look on her face, as if her son being injured isn’t important to her. “What did you do this time Roan?”

“I fell on the rocks.”

The queen only sighs before throwing a bag of jingling metal over her shoulder into the waiting hands of Kyro. The healer only rolled her eyes and dropped the small pouch onto her table. The bored woman’s eyebrows shot up, however when she saw the black blood leaking out of Ontari’s wound. A small smile even breached her otherwise sullen features. “Well well, what do we have here?” She asked with eagerness, gently taking the younger girl’s shaking wrist.

The queen dropped her wrist, letting it fall against the girl’s knee. She winced in pain as the queen stormed away towards Ontari’s parents who had been watching their queen’s actions with interest, not sure whether to interfere with the queen’s actions towards their daughter. Now they jump to their feet and bow their heads respectfully to the woman that ultimately decided whether their family was allowed to stay in the city. They were about to start a whole speech of thanks but before they can even start the queen raises her hand to demand silence. 

“You’re daughter’s coming with me.”

Ontari – 19 Years Ago

Her eyes flew open as the heavy hand fell down across her mouth and held her silent as she cried out into the skin. She looks up into the warm eyes of the older boy, he brings a finger up to his lips. Her excited heart begins to slow from the erratic rate the forced awakening brought on. He moved his hand and she sat up. The eyes that were usually full of childlike like bliss were now heavy with sadness. “We have to go Ontari, Mother says we’re going on a journey.”

“Where?” Ontari can’t help but sink at the prospect of going somewhere, the last year of her life she’d spent in one place, one home, one bedroom. The biggest bedroom she’d ever seen. The queen’s hospitality had even extended to her parents who now shared a bedroom at least two times bigger than any other. Never in her entire memory had she ever seen her parents so happy. Now Roan was telling her that they had to leave. “Nomon wants to go Azsonraun.”

“What!” Ontari almost shrieks, alarm quickly washes over Roan’s face as he begs her to stay quiet. “Ontari you can’t wake the others.”

“The others? My Parents?” Roan nods solemnly and then takes her hand and pulls her out of the bed and out of her room. She rips her hand from his grip and plants herself in the ground. Not only does he want to lead her away from the best home she’s ever had, but he wants her to abandon her parents. “I am not going anywhere without them.”

“Yes you are.” The words out of the queen’s mouth are cold and commanding, and they send chills down Ontari’s spine. She turns to face the tall and imposing woman. Wearing nothing but simple clothes, Ontari can’t help but feel underdressed when she takes in the extravagant armour that the queen is wearing. “Now follow Roan Ontari.”

Knowing better than to question the women that held fire in her veins just beneath the icy surface, Ontari turned and followed Roan. When she turned back to try and see the door to her parent’s room, she was met with the back of the queen’s long sleek hand. A resounding smack could be heard throughout the hall as Ontari fell to the floor, cradling her face where a vibrant red mark was already forming across her cheek. “Move.”

Feeling the chilling winds starting to bite at her exposed skin, Ontari tucks her hands under her arms to try and keep them warm. The tears of pain that drip from Ontari’s sleepy eyes are stinging. Her feet are screaming at her to put shoes on. The group soon exited the open hall and Ontari let out a shocked yelp when her foot plunges into the ice cold snow that had been building up throughout the night. 

The sky was pitch black above them, barely any stars were managing to break through the dark, and even then weren’t shining very brightly. Ontari was practically dragged through the streets without shoes by Nia who had her hand locked tightly around her collar. The buildings they walked past were all dark, and no one was on the streets, not even the usual vagrants and drunks that stalked around in the night. The snow was falling heavy on them as they walked, resting on Ontari’s head and shoulders. Roan walked ahead of them, Ontari could see his clenched fists were held tight to his side, his head wasn’t held up in the usual prideful stance he adopted, it was instead leant forward like he was ashamed of something. 

Nia’s grip on her collar didn’t break until they reached the town centre, where a year ago Ontari had broken her hand which had led to her meeting the queen. By the gate that opened up to the forest that surrounded the city was a large snow-coated carriage. In front of it were two powerful horses whose hooves were completely buried in the snow. Sitting on the seat with a torch of fire on either side was a person that Ontari didn’t recognise, however they jumped to attention as soon as the queen entered the centre. Dropping to their knees in respect before opening the cabin door for the three of them. 

The interior of the cabin was dark, and bare to say the least. There was only one piece of extravagance within the enclosed space that reminded Ontari of the many bedrooms she’d had throughout her short life. The large chair that could look at home in a throne room was adorned with the logo that Ontari had seen several times within the large home she’d been living in for the past year. The red emblem was expertly sown into the black material that covered the padded parts of the chair. Nia pushed harshly and Ontari fell face first into the carriage, she scampered quickly inside less Nia do something else. Roan followed her inside, allowing Ontari to see the anguish in his eyes. Finally Nia entered with the grace of the queen she was, thought the space was small she made it feel so much smaller, like she was the only important thing inside the cabin.

Ontari had barely managed to sit up in the cabin before the jolt of them moving threw her forward to land on Nia’s feet. With no remorse, Nia lifted her foot until Ontari rolled off of it to fall against the hard wooden back of the cabin. Ontari looked out the window into the dark forest that they were now entering.

“Sleep. We should be there in the morning.” Nia commanded of the two children that sat before her. Roan was already lying across the floor with his legs raised up. Ontari copied the position and used her cold, snow covered arm as a pillow. She shivered from the cold, her body was taking a long time to adjust to the temperature after leaving all the blankets that had adorned her bed. 

She remembered the dream that she’d been having when Roan had rudely awoken her, she had fallen out of the tree again like she had before. The same bone had protruded from her wrist but she had bled red. Soon Ontari re-entered the dream world, the same dream even, but rather than the dream she had been having, she entered the same nightmare that she’d lived through. Like it had been a year ago, her blood was again black as it had been the first time.

\--

“We’re here, get up.”

Without a second to even gather her senses, her hand was grabbed by strong arms and she was ripped out of the cabin to land on the soft and fluffy, freezing snow beneath her. Ontari gasped and spluttered as she tripped over herself trying to get to her feet. But by the time she did, her clothes and exposed skin was already covered in the feathery snow, and her feet were completely encased in it. The sound of snow crunching drew her attention to a pair of thick boots that had landed in the snow beside her, it was Roan. He dropped a pair of boots next to her before walking forward a few paces to take in the view as his hands were already rubbing his arms in an attempt to stay warm. Ontari was eying his thick coat with envy, all she had was a simple white long-sleeve shirt that almost blended in with the snow.

Sinking her cold feet into the rough feeling leather of the boots would normally seem uncomfortable, but Ontari’s cold feet thanked her. It wasn’t much warmer around her feet, but at the very least it wasn’t cold and for that, Ontari breathed a sigh of relief. It didn’t last long though because as soon as she was done the driver shoved her further into the snow so that the queen might exit the carriage. Ontari continuously rubbed her chest with her arms, remembering the advice her father had given her one particularly cold winter that they’d struggled through in the wild after being thrown out of a village.

But the action ceases when Ontari lifts her eyes to take in the scenery that already had Roan so enthralled. The city lay before them, just as all the rumours had said. It looked as if death itself had descended upon the city and named it his kingdom. The city was surrounded by a bed of ice and shattered rocks, and the city itself was broken, cracked and torn. It looked as if a strong breeze would be enough to cause the rest of it to crumble to dust. Ontari could not think of a single reason for Nia to want to claim this city for Ice Nation. Their land stretched for hundreds of miles past it, yet no one dared come close to this city.

“Why would you want to come here, what good is a city of ash?” Roan questions in a loud, boisterous voice, clearly not as scared of his mother’s wrath as Ontari was. Nia’s face quickly changed from excited at the prospects the city, becoming enraged at the insubordination of her own son. Her big moment of discovery was being undermined, by her own child no less, and she could not have that. And she made sure that Roan felt her anger at his interruption with the back of her hand. Kneeling into the cold snow that Ontari had only just climbed out of, she was at eye level with Roan, and they were eyes filled with searing hatred and humiliating fear. The queen’s eyes held fiery rage inside them that looked like it could burn what was left of the city to the ground. Not yet content, Nia launches her hand. Locking it tightly around Roan’s throat, the boy’s hands instinctively moved to try and break her grip but it was no use. Her warrior trained grip could not be broken by the meagre struggles of a tired and hungry child.

“We are here to rebuild Azgeda, a better one. Your father’s rule is weak and stilted. I will suffer his poor leadership no longer. I am the queen of Azgeda, I will be its ruler.” She hisses in his face with calmed fury, her breathes visible like cold waves dancing in the wind in front of Roan’s face. Her grip drops, and Roan does too, falling to the ground and landing on his back. He groans in pain but quickly stops, in an attempt to stifle any sign of weakness. His eyes snap to Ontari whose only quickly find the floor in front of her. The driver grabs a torch from the carriage and lights it before passing it to the queen, the warmth of the dancing flames must have felt nice, as the queen didn’t seem to take notice to the freezing environment that surrounded her.

Following the driver, who had his bow drawn with an arrow nocked against the string. He clearly wasn’t expecting to be able to simply walk into the city without incident. Nia didn’t seem as phased by the possibility, her posture was impeccable as always and her face held its usual pride and vanity. The only evidence that she suspected trouble was her pale hand resting on the handle of her jagged sword that swung from the holster on her hip. The crunch of snow under their heavy footsteps was the only noise that could be heard for nearly half an hour, until the tiniest crack of a branch caused them all to snap their heads around in an instant. The warrior had his bow drawn and aimed, his chest still as he held his breathe to keep that aim. Another twig cracked, much closer this time and he was able to pinpoint its location. “Come forth!” Nia called to whatever it was.

“Your Majesty!” Came the call from a deep and raspy voice, the man exited the tree line a moment later, followed by at least 30 more warriors. All of them fell to one knee to show respect to their queen. Nia just watched her subjects submit themselves to her, not immediately calling them to their feet. When she finally did allow them to stand again she offered no commands or even words of acknowledgement, simply turning around and continuing along the cracked concrete path towards her goal. Everyone quickly falling in behind, forming a pattern that allowed the archers a view to every possible front of attack. Unsure of where to stand, Ontari simply kept herself close behind Nia and next to Roan who was paying no one any notice. The red mark was beginning to cherry on his cheek, and even in the dry winds his eyes were more watery then normal.

With nothing but the sound of light winds bristling through the trees behind them, Ontari can’t help but notice clatter of weapons that hang of the warrior’s snow covered fur armours. Swords and axes and knives all dangle off of belts or thigh straps, and all within easy reach of the warriors if need. And yet Ontari has never felt less safe then she does in this moment, and absolutely never more afraid.

They reached the edge of the frozen lake and while everyone halted to try and find a way across, Nia simply kept walking, the woman’s grace did not fail her as she maintained her pace while walking across the slippery ice. Roan is the next to follow, he doesn’t allow himself to fall out of pure determination and spite. Ontari, not eager to be left behind with the warriors quickly follows. And slips the moment her foot touches icy surface. Crashing down with all the weight of her body, she manages to stretch her hands out but it doesn’t soften the impact for her lower body. Roars of laughter sound up behind her, she doesn’t turn to face the warriors, humiliated enough. As she tries to bring her knees under her chest to regain her balance, she finds that it is nearly impossible without her feet sliding out from under her. Ignoring the continuing boisterous laughter from behind her, Ontari braces herself to try again but before she can, a quivering hand is shoved in her face. The distant, sullen eyes of Roan look down at her with pity as he offers his help. She gladly takes it, happy to know that the boy she’d become friends with a year ago still could be kind.

Looking behind Ontari’s shoulder with a harsh look instantly silences the boisterous laughter of the warriors and Ontari is thankful. Keeping a strong grip, Ontari and Roan begin to steadily catch up with Nia who was nearly halfway to the derelict city. Ontari doesn’t turn around when she hears crashes of bodies onto the unyielding ice, and even cracks a small smirk, comfortable in the knowledge that she wouldn’t be the only to trip over.

Nia climbs onto the charred rock after throwing the torch over the metal rails that stand around the area Nia’s path had led them too. Ontari doesn’t spend much time looking up at the buildings, worried that she’d lose her footing on the slippery ice. When she looks up at the remains of the city, she doesn’t see burned buildings and cindered skies. Ontari can see the blue sky with the bright sun shining down on the sparkling glass of the lively buildings, she can imagine the sounds of bustling crowds walking the streets, talking, eating and living, the sound of the water lapping at the edges of the land, she imagines the lack of emptiness. She can see the life of the city, and the lives of the people, happy and free. The vision is shattered like the dust that coats this city like a blanket when they climb over the railing without any help from the queen. 

All around her are screams of anguish, anger, and agony; frozen in time, a dark instant captured by its own death, preserved for nearly a hundred years. 

“How?” She whispered not expecting the queen to hear her let alone answer. “They trusted others to protect themselves. We will not repeat the same mistakes.” The queen said in a matter of fact tone, nodding towards her direction before the light is cut away as a bag is pulled over eyes. She doesn’t even get a chance to scream before the heavy but of a sword is brought down on the back of her head, knocking her to the ground with a huff.

Ontari – 3 Years Ago

The chain attached to the shackle around her around her ankle rustled as Ontari turned onto her side in her sleep, her nearly floor length unkempt hair flailing around her body uncomfortably. Her body had long since adjusted to the cold rock floor of the pitch black room that had become her home, and her prison. Released only once a day to train and go to the toilet, it had been this way since the first day they’d arrived in this accursed city. Ontari’s eyes snapped open, her body recognising that someone was about to enter the room, and she fell to the floor on her knees in order to avoid a beating. The door cracks open and the light floods into the room, blinding the young woman until she closes her eyes so they can adjust. With her head bowed and her eyes glued to the floor, she simply breathed as a boot-clad foot entered her field of view, but she was confused as this boot was clean and well maintained, where her trainer’s boots were usually in tatters and about ready to fall apart. Knowing better then to let her curiosity get the better of her, the now 22 year old in peak physical form with the rigorous and unforgiving training having shaped her body into a near perfect warrior’s, kept her eyes on the cobblestone floor.

“What is your purpose Ontari?

The frosty voice of the queen asked of her, the only words that anyone had been said to her since her sight had been stolen when they’d arrived in the city. “To serve the Queen of Azgeda.” Ontari answers, knowing it is the only answer that will not get her a whipping. The boot leaves her sight, and like that the queen is gone and the door is slammed behind her, locking Ontari back into the darkness. 

Not for long though as a few minutes later the door is ripped open, Ontari unmoved from her position kneeling on the jagged and rough floor. A blade drops at her feet sending a resounding clank that echoes around her room. With utter silence Ontari grabs it and stands at her feet, looking at the older woman that had been her trainer for the last 16 years. The woman was a mute though not by choice. A punishment for a crime committed long ago. Ontari had never even learned the woman’s name. Regardless, it meant that their training was quiet only filled with the sounds of whatever weapons they were training with today. 

Ontari rolled the medium sized blade around in her hand, getting a feel for it, her trainer simply watched with a curious expression dancing in her eyes. Without any notice she turned and began to walk down the flame lit hall. Following her Ontari took the opportunity like she always did to take in every detail of the space that was not her cell, inquisitive for any minor noticeable difference. She hid her excitement when she noticed that a small piece of rubble that was sticking out of the cracked wall had joined the piles that lined the sides of the halls. The gentle light of the torches was also appreciated as it allowed her to prepare herself for what was coming.

They reached the door that led them to the training ground and the trainer turned to face her, expectantly. Ontari noticed that the woman was wearing an extra thick pelt coat today. The cold had long since stopped bothering Ontari, as like the darkness, she’d adopted it, but like the darkness, didn’t enjoy it and absolutely revelled in any warmth she could ever find in this kingdom of ice. Ontari nodded and the trainer returned it before opening the creaky door. The light pierced into the comparably dark corridor and Ontari lifted her pale hand to try and block any of the light, lest she lose her sight. 

The wind was blowing a gale today, the snow would not stay still, instead it flew around the air like tiny birds. Before she truly had a chance to take in the sights she heard the signal to start her training, the woman had clicked her fingers and like that Ontari was off, sword clutched tight in hand as she started her first lap around the snow covered arena. The large pit had been dug out of the ground, at least 2 metres deep with only a single ladder allowing entry or exit. Standing in the arena with eyes locked on her were four large fighters each with their own weapons. One with a bow and arrow with blunt tips, another with an axe that had a wooden block wear the blade would be, and the last two nearly identical apart from the weapons, one with two small serrated axes and the other with jagged and twisted knives. The blades were dulled to near uselessness, but Ontari knew that if even one hit landed on her then the thrashing afterwards would make her wish they’d been sharp blades. As she neared the last quarter of the first lap, the statue entered her sight. Standing tall and proud and covered in soot and embers with half of her face ripped away. Ontari knew that the Ice queen was there, plotting on how to win the war, and planning the war after that which would lead her to control the rival clans.

After the tenth lap, Ontari slid down the ladder with her sword in hand and stood tall and ready to take on her opponents. 

Without a seconds hesitation she threw her sword with practiced aim and skill, embedding it deep into the shoulder of the archer who’d backed into the wall to stay out of the main fight, the momentum of the blade was so strong that it pushed into the wall until the cross guard was pulled tight against his shoulder. He screamed out in tormented pain as hot blood began to pour down his arm, staining the ground beneath him as the bow clattered to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, Ontari could see her trainer nod slightly. It is all the encouragement she needs as she bounds over one of the mounds that was piled to serve as courage, kicking a stunned twin onto the blades of his brother, his cries quickly join those of the archer as the blades dig deep into his spine. His twin quickly crawls out from underneath and tries to pull the blade from his brother’s back, only to unleash a new torrent of wails, as the twisted blades drag the raw flesh as he tries to extract them.

While the two twins are engaged, Ontari turns to face the tall brute that had remained calm throughout the unfolding before him. His smile unnerved Ontari because she had faced him before and had always come away empty once shed seen him smile. He had a plan to defeat her and she had no hope in the world of defending against it. So she didn’t try to. Today instead, she would do exactly what he didn’t expect, and today would be the day she won, no more would he get to torture her after training sessions with his fists raining down again and again on her body wherever he saw fit. Leaving her broken and so destitute that she had no energy to fight the next day, leaving the cycle to repeat itself. 

Ontari launched into the air propelling herself off of a large slab of cracked concrete, she watched surprise and uncertainty cloud the man’s eyes. And watched as it quickly became concern and alarm. Without so much as a hint of sympathy her two joined legs slammed full force into the giant’s knee. The crack resounded out through the arena, temporarily silencing the screams of the two wounded men, as the man’s kneecap shattered inward, pushing the bones out the underside of his leg, tearing through the fabric of his pants with the same efficiency as it ripped apart his skin. The large axe dropped to the snow covered floor as he keeled over, adding a third set of cries to the mix. Not content to leave the unarmed fighter as was. Ontari closed her hands around the handle and raised it above her head before letting out a scream that had been building up inside of her for much longer then she cared to remember. Before crashing the blunt but solid wood down on the defenceless man’s head. Again and again she swung the hammer. The fighter’s screams quickly died as his life left him, leaking out of his head into the snow. But still it was not enough, Ontari counted every time she brought it down, every time he’d hit her. 

“You Bitch!.” Shouts a voice behind her. The feral animal didn’t recognise the voice, it deemed the voice to be an interruption to her feast of vengeance. Swinging around to face the distraction, Ontari brought the hammer around with her with such strength that it caught the last fighter, the healthy twin, square in the side of the head as he had launched at her wielding his brother’s axes. The sickening crunch of his broken skull had no effect on her as his lifeless body dropped to the ground with an empty thud. The still breathing brother watched from where he’d been propped up against a wall with the blades still lodged deep within his flesh. All he could see was a blood soaked berserker holding on to the chipped hammer that had just snatched his brother away. But none of that was what scared him. It was her smile.

“Ontari!”

Knowing the voice like her own skin, she drops to her knees with her head bowed, her eyes adopting their programmed position of looking at the floor. Adrenaline of the fight still ripping through her body as the hot blood that had splashed onto her body and clothes and hair drips to the icy floor. Her chest heaving with the exertion soon calms when she hears the heavy leather land on the metal rungs of the ladder as Nia descends into the arena. Surprise that the queen isn’t in the statue is the least of Ontari’s concerns when the tip of a sword slowly enters her vision and is gently but firmly pressed under her chin and is used to raise her head. 

The 16 years had been extremely generous to the queen, her skin is still tight with few wrinkles. And those that she bares only add to her menacing figure. The scars that have been carved into her forehead grabbed the blood-bathed girl’s attention most as they look recent, almost like branding of some kind. They appeared to be roots reaching down from her hairline to her dark and threatening eyes. The blonde hair that had been longer all those years ago had been cropped short and held back with a headdress made of animal bones. The queen that Ontari had known, that had worn clean and well maintained clothes had disappeared and in her place was a fierce and unrelenting warrior.

“What is your purpose Ontari?”

“To serve the Queen of Azgeda.” Ontari replied automatically.

“And?”

A sharp intake of breath fills Ontari’s lungs, until now that answer had sufficed. The queen had never demanded more. Her eyes plead for an answer but the queen’s face remains blank, stoic in its appreciation of Ontari’s desire to find an answer that won’t earn her a beating. The queen stares straight into her own dark eyes, not blinking as she waits for an answer. 

For the first time this morning Ontari actually feels nervous, her palms are clammy and her eyes begin searching for anything in the queen’s face that will tell her the answer. But there is no salvation. There is no answer. There is no way out.

“Destroy her enemies.”

The wicked smile that curved its way up the queen’s mouth would have been enough to disturb many. But for Ontari, it is relief, it is release. It is an exemption from pain and suffering. The queen’s eyes break away from hers and turn towards the trainer who is still watching from high up on the rafters. The quiet moment is quickly broken by a fresh moan of pain, originating from the archer that Ontari had impaled with her thrown sword. A nod from Nia is all Ontari needs before she approaches the man, her heavy boots crunching on the red snow. She locks her hand around the handle and twists the blade, prompting hisses of agony and pleadings of mercy. 

With tormented grunts of pain coming from the man, Ontari turns to face the queen. Her sick smile still carved into her menacing features. And Ontari understands. For 16 years she has been training for one thing. To destroy those the queen demands. And those 16 years had made her the best at it. Years of loneliness, beatings and unadulterated fear and pain. Now it was her turn, no longer would she cower in fear and fight to survive, now she would fight to hurt those that would hurt her and her queen. The queen, Ontari realised, had spent these long years, teaching her only one simple lesson. That rage and wrath were strength, and love and empathy were weakness. Ontari realised that the only time she’d ever been punished was when compassion prevented her from finishing an opponent or letting her fear or care for others lead her to defeat, and that her cruelty and efficiency had been rewarded with no punishment. Ontari understood herself now, there was only one way to live, the infliction of pain on others so that it would not come to you. She released a long breath that felt like it had taken 16 years to come to, but she breathed out all her fear and weakness, and her mind was free. Reservations simply faded away from her as her own face began to twist and contort to accommodate the same sick smile her mentor wore. And the man screamed for mercy, for his life, for his mother, and then no more.

“You missed one Ontari.” The queen points out when the archer is finally dead. The berserker turns to look over all the bodies, the archer she’d just finished with, the brute whose head shed caved in, the brother shed caught in mid-air, and the brother who was impaled by his own family’s steel. She quickly realised that the last one was still breathing, though it was light and quick, he was alive. Without any word of instruction, Ontari dragged the man by the scruff of his coat and dragged his heavy body through the snow. He was close to death already and Ontari knew how to make those last moments as excruciating as possible. Holding the collar behind his neck, his body hung in the air just above his brother’s empty body. Dying eyes staring into dead ones. Tears began to join the mixture of blood and snow on the ground, but quickly stopped. The body thudded when it fell on his brother, and there they stayed together.


	12. Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ontari is cleaned of her past by the queen, and is shown how her faith in the queen may be misplaced through the help of a prisoner.
> 
> This is the second part of Ontari's story and it has applications to the rest of the present day story.  
> Please Enjoy!!!

Ontari - 3 Years Ago  
Ontari followed the queen along the rickety wooden bridge that connected the mainland to the statue. She walked tall and proud beside her queen as naturally as her fighting skills, smile still plastered across her face. The Queens’s also, Nia knew that Ontari had become hers, her slave and her killer. Nia took her time to actually analyse what had become of the girl since she’d abandoned her in that dark, dank cell. She hadn’t grown exceptionally tall, and her onyx hair had grown exponentially, not having been cut in 16 years, it reached nearly down to the floor. The sleeveless shirt that was now more blood then fabric, allowed Nia to see the muscle development. 16 years of training and a concentrated diet had produced a warrior in a finer shape then Nia had ever seen.

As they approached the charcoal grey statue, Ontari looked up at it as she had 16 years ago when they’d first arrived. At the time she remembered imagining the beauty of the sun reflecting off of the shining metal which she was made of. Now all she saw was a half ruined statue, dulled with the ash of the city she once watched over. And scarred from the devastation she could do nothing to prevent. The statue loomed over them, Ontari felt tiny in comparison. The marble floor was probably once smooth and well maintained, now decayed, scratched and chipped. The two stood on a wooden platform at the end of the entrance corridor, Nia simply stands still after calling out a command of “Throne Room!” into thin air. Confusion must have shown on Ontari’s face, as Nia released a small chuckle before the platform jolted and they began to slowly rise with the sound of large gears and chains rotating filling the shaft. 

After nearly 10 minutes of comfortable silence backgrounded by the lift mechanisms, they finally arrived at what Ontari assumed was the top floor. The platform shook again as it had at the start of their ascent, and Ontari had to grab the wall to steady herself. Like a child she smiled stupidly at the marvel of how they’d lifted without having actually done anything. Nia steps of the platform with all the grace Ontari had come to expect of her. Ontari followed, but slower as she took in the beauty of the throne room. Walls decorated with intricate murals of bloody battles and executions, additional columns had been placed along the hall, each holding a flame burning red hot and illuminating the decadent room. The biggest feature was that half of the wall that sat behind the extravagant throne, was missing, torn away in the firestorm nearly a hundred years ago. Bits of metal and cabling still wave in the wind where the rest had been connected. 

Her heart jumps as she takes in the tragically beautiful scene. Her heart rate rises, and her pupils dilate as she takes in all the detail of every crack and tear in the buildings across the frozen ocean. The soft thuds of footfalls behind her remind of that she is not alone in the room. The queen now stands behind her but she says nothing. Like Ontari, she simply takes in the beauty of the destroyed city in front of her. The day that they’d arrived in the city, Ontari thought to herself that she could never imagine a day when she’d see the devastation as beautiful. And then she spent 16 years looked away in empty darkness. The only colour in her life was the crimson of the blood of those who had been thrown into her arena. But now, taking in the absence of interference, leaving only the remains of what was, she can see nothing but an eerie beauty in the depraved destruction that incinerated it so long ago.

The queen pushes her arm in front of Ontari, offering her a pair of binoculars, the rubber of them had been worn away in various places and was covered in burn marks. But through them Ontari could see the finer details, study the etchings of fear and desperation on the faces of the corpse statues, their frozen bodies forever locked running from a devastation that had long since passed them, and still they stand as a monument to their own demise, and failure to prevent it. 

“Come.”

Ontari follows the queen back to the centre of the room where she kneels on both knees to her queen. Her head again leaned to the ground. At the edge of her vision she can see the queen slowly adjust herself on her throne. Taking several minutes to get comfortable, and then several minutes simply enjoying the view of having her warrior bending at her feet. “Look at me.” 

Ontari raises her head to look into the eyes of her queen and master. They are concealed but not empty, hiding the murderous visionary just beneath the surface. But not totally unkind though strict. Finally able to see the queen, Ontari is surprised by her chosen position. She is leaning forward with her elbows resting on top of her knees with her chin sitting on top of her hands, eager and attentive. “Strip.”

Confusion must show on Ontari’s face because when she doesn’t instantly follow the command, fury and hellfire flare inside her queen’s eyes. Not giving that fire a chance to spread, Ontari quickly begins to pull her blood red shirt over her head, dropping it on the dirty concrete with a wet squish. Having never been given and form of undergarment, her chest and all the scars are on display for the queen. Having not been told to stop, Ontari continues, dragging her pants down her toned legs. They too join the pile of wet clothes that has formed next to her. And lastly she drops her ragged and torn boots on top. Baring herself completely to the queen she feels the cool air begin to prick at her skin as the blood that wasn’t already dry, begins to do so and stick to her skin. The queen simply drags her eyes over the statue still body, studying every scar, that her warrior had gained, and every muscle that had been developed. Ontari simply looked ahead, too embarrassed to look the queen directly in the eyes. An eternity passed and still there had been no command or even motion from the queen that Ontari could cover herself, and still she held her position. Until eventually she looked at the queen and realised that her eyes were locked on Ontari’s, a pleased and prideful smirk spread wide and strong by her thin lips. “You’ve turned out so well Ontari. I’m pleased.”

With a snap of her long fingers, the door to the throne next to the platform bursts open and in run three men, all dressed in the rags of slaves. Their small clothes hanging off of their hungry and malnourished bodies. Two work together to carry a large, steaming tub. So careful, determined not to spill what’s inside. While the last, the tallest, carries a second, smaller tub. The two men lay the steaming tub in front of Ontari and fall to their knees next to it, while the third stands next to Ontari. Non move until the command is given. But when the queen nods they move lightning fast as Ontari is gently guided into the pool of the first warm water that she’d felt for sixteen long, cold years. She’d had to make do with the cold rain from the storms during her training previously. The men each grab a soft brush glazed with a glazed lotion from the equipment tub carried by the third man, and begin to work on scrubbing her body. Ontari didn’t allow herself to look away from the queen, whose eyes had not moved or even flinched, Ontari could swear that she hadn’t even blinked. It is undeniable that the situation she finds herself in is incredibly uncomfortable. If she was being honest with herself, the arena seemed a lot more enviable then this. Ontari forced her mind to drift off to pleasant thoughts of challenging combat with powerful enemies, if only to allow herself to simply enjoy the warmth.

Warmth. So long without warmth. No memory of what it even felt like. Yet now being embraced by it, Ontari can’t, no, won’t entertain the possibility of her life without it. As the brushes efficiently worked away all the years of grime and dried blood off of her body, she could feel the layers of grime that had begun to coat her skin fall away. She imagined that the grey tint her skin had developed was being scrubbed away, revealing the pale skin that she hadn’t recognised in an age. She clenched her fist when she felt one of the cleaners make his way lower down her front, but she maintained her composure. Simply allowing him to work and get it over with. Which it was in a matter of seconds. The queen’s eyes flashed with surprise at Ontari’s restraint and she knew that she’d passed some kind of test of the queen’s design. The sound of wet fabric hitting the floor, resounded in the otherwise silent room. A long blade was pulled out of the basket, Ontari flinched, knowing that the queen expected her to remain still, yet instinct telling her to find a way to defend herself from the weapon. There was no need to though, as all her hair was grabbed and held tight as one of the servants sliced clean through, just above where he’d been holding between her shoulder blades.

She hadn’t realised how much her hair had been weighing her down until she held her head high without it. Curiosity was itching away at her resolve now, she was desperate to see what she looked like. Not having seen her own reflection since prepubescence. The drips and splashes of the soapy water back into the bath which was she guessed, almost black with all the dirt and blood, both black and red. The drops that splashed onto the cold metal floor resounded around the spacious hall, and the smell of blood and years of her own body odour began to slowly fade. Her skin was shivering with the cold air quickly cooling the water on the parts of her body that the men weren’t washing. The rough texture of the sponges as they scrape away is almost painful, but compared to all the pain she’d endured, this felt like she was being washed with the softest rags that had ever been made. Her body flinched when one of the servants began to wash at her chest, she had long since gone through puberty and development. It was nearly impossible not to break his hand as the rag dragged across her breast, but out of the very bottom of her eye that she could see that he could not. His pupil had nearly faded, leaving his eyes glassed and misty like a cloud trapped in a glass ball. Her boiling anger began to simmer as she restrained herself from breaking his hand, he’d been tortured enough in his life.

“Shave her.” Ontari almost jumped when the words broke the uncomfortable silence that had taken hold of the room, and now took its hold again when the queen fell silent, never ending her eye contact. A small foamy substance was lathered around her legs and under her arms which were carefully raised by the slaves, trying to be as unobtrusive as the situation allowed them to be. The small whistle of steel in the wind pierced the silence before it was rested lightly on her ankle which was placed on the edge of the soaked wooden tub. Despite the heat radiating from the tub Ontari still flinched at the ice cold feeling of the blade. Very slowly and delicately the slave began to drag the blade up her hair covered led, his hand was as steady with the knife as she trained to be with any blade. He could not see yet the moves were precise and perfectly executed. The scratching noise of metal being dragged on skin met her ears as she stood perfectly still, hoping to avoid any cuts, she had enough scars. The man’s hand drew up her thigh and soon was scrapping down her groin from her abdomen and stopping just above where her vagina lips started. The man was quick in this area and she was thankful for that. 16 years in the dark had deprived her of any education about her body, but even the few years she’d lived away from her cell had taught that that was a private place, but she dare not deny her queen.

The murky water that she stood in was soon prickly with the small hairs that had fallen in, they tickled against her ankles and toes. It was not over as the oldest man of the three came into her view with the blade in his hand. She hadn’t been able to tell which of the men had been shaving her, and now his old and weary but not unkind face entered her view. Knowing he could not see her Ontari did not try to hide her disgust and discomfort with the situation. He offered a small comforting smile, like he could feel her dissatisfaction, and he only offered it when his back was to the queen. He gently grasped Ontari’s elbow with soft and gentle skin, surprising for an old man whose entire body was wrinkled and cracked from the cold dry conditions. Again the cool blade, warmer now after being rinsed in the water a few times, pressed firmly against her skin and was tenderly drawn down and through her thick underarm. The process was repeated under her other arm, she watched the matted bush of hair fall into the water below, instantly feeling glad that she wasn’t a man. Having a razor sharp blade being dragged up and down one’s throat didn’t sound like a very inviting activity. All the while the two other sets of hands never ceased scouring her body with the soft soapy substance that smelt of lush forests like the ones Ontari had grown up in, a distant memory now.

With a sharp clap of the queens hands the men dropped to the floor on their hands and knees, their bodies resting on both dry and wet tile as if there was no difference. They stayed for a few seconds but without warning they leaped to their feet, two grabbing the tub and carried to the gaping hole at the end of the room, careful not to spill any drops on the queen’s floor. They flung the water into the beginnings of a screaming blizzard that was forming outside and Ontari could swear that she saw the dirty water almost start to freeze instantly. They hurried back inside where Ontari now stood on a wide towel while the older slave was slaving away on the floor with a towel. With the tub placed on the floor, Ontari felt the fluffy and soft embrace of a fresh towel wrap her body and dry her of the now cold water. Once dry she was dressed first in simple but comfortable undergarments, and her breasts were delicately but not tightly wrapped. Next was a pair of tight but cosy black pants followed by a form fitting, white long-sleeved shirt. Ontari felt awkward still, never having had someone else dress her. It seemed like such a menial task, but she couldn’t deny the pleasure of having it done for her. Next, after her socks and strong leather boots were laced snugly around her feet, a heavy pelt coat was pulled around her body. It looked large and overbearing but Ontari found it quite that it had a lot of flexibility and give where it was needed. That was a distant concern to her though as for the first time in 16 years, she had clothes that actually kept her body warm. She was positively hot even.

The final piece of her gear was offered to her only, a long and sleek black blade was held out to her by the old man, he had his back to her and she could see the smirk pulling at his face. The handle’s leather was new and felt like it had only just been tanned. But the blade had clearly seen combat, the occasional speck of dried blood made that obvious. Still never breaking eye contact with the queen, Ontari simply felt around blade with her hand, cautious to not cut her fingers. It was a tough effort as the blade was sharper than Ontari could have imagined.

A heartbeat passed and the slaves had disappeared, Ontari barely registered their disappearance before she heard a door slam from somewhere behind her.  
The quiet room felt empty with only her and the queen in it, but despite the coolness blowing in, Ontari felt hot and uncomfortable. The clothes that others would probably consider a bare necessity in this weather felt like they were scalding, as if they were trying to smother her in heat. She felt the beads of sweat forming and still the queen said nothing.

It hit her, the queen was waiting for the acknowledgment a queen deserves. Slowly lowering to the jagged and uneven floor. Ontari broke the line of sight that she had worked so hard to maintain throughout the ordeal, trading it in for the sight of the damp metal floor she kneeled upon.

At the edge of her vision she could see the Queen’s feet plant themselves on the floor and her legs straighten as she stands. “Rise, Ontari Kom Azgeda.”

“My Queen.”

“Bring them in.” The queen calls to someone outside of the room as Ontari rises to take her place next to the queen. “Come Ontari.” The Queen rests her hand on Ontari’s shoulder and leads her towards the gaping tear, she hears the sounds of struggles and muffled pleas of mercy come from behind her but ignores it. “What do you see, my warrior?”

Ontari elates at the title but doesn’t let it show. Instead she looks out into the raging snowstorm, the heavy snow beginning to coat the world around her in yet another layer of cold. She looks at the remnants of the once great city on her doorstep, now cindered skeletons, empty of life and possibility. Home only to those of Azgeda brave enough, or stupid enough to try and live in the wrecks. She could just imagine how delicate they must be not to upset the buildings lest they simply crumble beneath them.

“I see death.” She answers.

“What else?” The Queen insists.

“I see failure and loss and weakness. The people allowed this to happen to themselves. They did nothing to protect themselves. They didn’t even run in fear. They simply allowed themselves to die. They were not strong.”

“What if they had no warning Ontari?”

“Then they are fools for not preparing, and weak doubly so because of it.”

“Sha.”

They fall silent again, muffles still coming from behind them. Ontari’s curiosity is peaked but the trained patience within her roots her to her position until the Queen moves. “What do you feel Ontari?” Confused the shorter girl looks up at her queen but is not noticed, the Queen’s gaze firmly locked on the landscape beneath and before them. “I locked you away for 16 years, trained you for countless hours every day, allowed you to be beaten on the whim of those weak and beneath you simply because they enjoyed it. So I ask you. What do you feel?”

“Strong.” She started, aware of the Queen’s intent and fierce eyes locked onto her every small move, and her ears analysing every word. “I know I am not weak, I feel anger at those who are, rage at the ones who thought they had any right to hurt me.” She stops.

“And?” The queen pushes, a proud smile stretching her small mouth.

“Grateful. I am grateful my queen, you have shown me weakness, and given me strength and skill. I am your warrior my queen, now and always.” Ontari says quietly, but honest and whole-heartedly.

The queen’s smile opens fully unrestrained. Success, She had gotten exactly what she’d wanted, 16 years and it had ended perfectly, her perfect puppet. “Ontari, what should happen to the weak?”

“They should be submitted to their weakness and drown in it or endure and become stronger. Like you did for me my Queen.”

The queen turned and walked back into the room, Ontari quickly on her tail, as if an invisible leash kept her by the queen’s side.

Before them were two people with dirt covered skin and ragged clothes, with more holes then actual fabric, hung from their decrepit and emaciated bodies. Whimpers and snivels were the only sounds they made. Heads bowed in a seemingly natural position, as if they were always like this. Then Ontari realised that they probably were. She looked at the quivering bodies, shaking with fear and hands pressed firmly against the cold torn metal floor. “Who are they?” Ontari questioned. “Weaker people.” The queen answers with a tone full of unhindered arrogance, she looked down on these people, whoever they were. “Do you want to know why they are weak Ontari?” She simply nods and the queen smiles before straightening her back as if she were preparing to deliver a speech. “Many years ago, these people allowed their child to be taken away in their sleep, by someone they trusted no less. When they realised they searched and found nothing, they heard stories that the child had been stolen away by wolves or rival clans but they did not want to believe it. Yet it was enough for them to end their pursuit of the truth. Eventually they moved on with their lives. They even had another child, thinking it could replace the vacancy of their loss. It’s almost fitting that the child did not survive its infancy, don’t you think?” Ire begins to dance in Ontari’s mind, how could these people have been so careless, and then so arrogant to think that they deserved the right to try again. “How could they think they have the right after they failed with their first?”

“A good question, what do you have to say for yourself filth?” Nia paces slowly around the shaking prisoners, her heavy footfalls stop next to the woman and she knows that the queen expects her to talk. She cries out, sniffing and slobbering into her hood. “I’m sorry!” She cries out. “I didn’t ask for an apology, and I’m not the one who deserves those words.” The queen lands a crushing blow against the side of the hood, the figure crumples to the floor in a heap with a loud thud and a fearful cry of agony. “Stop! Please!” the man next to the abused woman cries out. Even though Ontari couldn’t see his face, it was obvious that the man was crying under his hood. She didn’t even try to feel any empathy for the man, knowing that he did not deserve it after all he’d done and turned his back on. “Answer my question then. Why did you think you deserved another child after simply accepting the loss of your first?” The queen’s eyes were not on the man but rather Ontari, studying the tall and proud stature of the woman that she had invested 16 years in.  
“We knew it wasn’t right, having another child with our daughter taken from us. We didn’t even plan our son, he just happened. You couldn’t imagine the joy when I held him in my arms.” He is still clearly crying, but now it seemed as if he was crying for joy of the memory. “He was our perfect miracle.” He continued. “I Loved my daughter, and I loved my son.” He muttered out. “Tell me about his child hood.” The queen continued. By now the beaten woman had returned to her upright, if hunched sitting position, a silence had taken over her though. Ontari noticed a silver ring with a black gem clamped tightly within an intricate design of metal. The black reminded Ontari of herself, and what was inside her. Realising she’d become distracted she tried to return her attention to the conversation at hand. The father was in the middle of describing his late son. “He had dark brown eyes and black hair, like his sister. He was pale, almost sickly. The healer told us he would not live long. But he was real.” He managed to choke out a sickly chuckle, his hands had moved to cradle the air a small child would take in his arms. “I remember his first cut, he’d scraped his knee on the pavement. Red blood dripped from his knee all night and he cried, but he was strong.”

“Red?” The queen picks up on the man’s strange description of blood. Ontari had missed it completely and she looks down at the deep cut running on the inside of her hand where she caught a thrown knife in mid-air a couple of days before, it had started to scar but she could still see her own raven black in her veins. “Yes his blood was red.” The man answers. “You say that as if there is another option?” Ontari scowls a tiny bit at the queen, insulted that the queen would dismiss her body so, but the queen returns a knowing smile. “Our daughter. She was different from other children. We had to run most of her life before she was taken. People did not accept us because of her blood. They believed that a girl whose blood was blacker then the night sky was a poor omen, and an abomination.” 

Ontari’s hands dropped to her sides and her jaw fell in surprise. The queen appeared to be struggling to hold back laughter. Ontari stepped down from the raised throne and approached the silent man. The stitched bag on his head was coarse on her skin. She closed her fist and ripped the bag away. He screwed his eyes and shunned away from the blinding light blaring in from the sky behind Ontari. He blinked rapidly allowing Ontari to observe the man’s features. The years had not been kind on him, he was mostly bald and his beard only grew from patches on his face and neck, but it was the same as she remembered. The same gentleness, the same kindness. For the first time in 16 years Ontari wanted to speak and could think of no words to say. She turned and ripped the bag of the woman’s head, already knowing who it would be. Her dry, old and cracked skin was pulled tight across her once beautiful features. He frizzy black hair fell down her back, Ontari was disgusted by bald patches that decorated her head, like the hair had been pulled out repeatedly. Ontari looked them both up and down, shock and awe must have been written plain on her face because the queen chuckled and asked. “Do you recognise them Ontari?”

The two prisoners who had been looking at their daughter with confusion on their faces whipped around to listen to their queen. “What?” he questioned before turning back to face her. Bounding up from his position kneeling on the floor he tried to reach Ontari. But years of people charging her only to cause her pain had left Ontari’s reflexes rather sharp as she sent him flying into the hard metal floor, while she kept a strong grip on his wrist. He groaned in pain but it was Ontari who wore tears now. “You left me!” She screamed into his face, twisting his wrist further, causing him to groan in pain. “You forgot me!” she threw his hand away in disgust and wiped her hand on her coat, before rounding on her mother, who was still kneeling on the floor. But her face was filled with fear.

“We didn’t leave you Ontari. We looked everywhere for you, we had no idea where. No idea who took you or why.” She croaks out through broken sobs. “I disappeared on the same night as the Queen and her son and that is the best lie you can think of!” Ontari screams into her mother’s face before striking her hard in the jaw with a heavy closed fist. The queen had begun to make her slow way back to her throne, before she lowered herself. Ontari’s father who had been using the chair to regain his balance was thrown to the ground in front of her. Ontari was livid, her heavy breathes were hot and hard, and her twitching body a sign that she was not done yet. Her mother was cowering on the floor her hands raised above her head, Ontari only saw the pathetic attempt as encouragement, and threw her booted foot right into the woman’s ribcage. “Ontari Please. We’re sorry!” Her father shouted from his collapsed position on the floor, his hand pressed tightly against his shoulder, probably dislocated, Ontari’s trained mind assumed. “You’re sorry! 16 years and you’re sorry! I loved you, and you just forgot me and moved on like I was some burden that was lifted from your shoulders!”

“You weren’t a burden Ontari, you were our daughter. We loved you!” he screams, trying to make his rabid daughter see reason. “You blamed me.” She whispered to herself in consideration of his words to the queen a few moments ago. “Those five years you blamed me for everything. You blamed me for every stone they threw at us. When we were chased out of villages you knew it was my fault, but I was your daughter, you couldn’t just throw me away could you?” She demands of her parents. They’d crawled together and were using each-other as support, both with tears streaming down their face and Ontari’s mother had blood dripping from where Ontari’s and the queen’s punches had torn at her face. Yet they were silent against their accusations. Ontari’s own tears began to fall slowly. The little reaming self-control she had was quickly fading and the queen knew it. It wouldn’t be long now. Through sobs Ontari continued. “You suffered your child for five years and when she, when I was stolen from you, you forgot. You replaced me. I was your daughter, but I was an abomination. How could you possibly be sad that your embarrassment of a daughter disappeared?” And it was at this moment she finally realised. Those first five years had been devoted to hiding away where no one could find her. Hidden in ceilings and cupboards. Taken to healers in the black of night where no one would see.  
“You didn’t love me, you were scared of me, what my blood would make others do to you!” Ontari’s body had adopted a predatory pose and her fists were sealed tight at her side. “That’s not true Ontari. Please you can’t think that’s true. You were our daughter!” 

Ontari stopped crying, they didn’t deserve her tears. Not now, not after all the forced, false love they had given her.

“What was his name, my brother?”

“Ryon.”

“Did you love him?”

“Of course we did, he was our son. We never wanted you to be taken Ontari.” Pleading on the ground like lesser beings, Ontari’s anger builds. She came from these people, these weak and pathetic people. “How many homes were you chased from because of him? How many holes in the wall did he have to sleep in just so people wouldn’t find him if they came for us in the night, for fear that his difference would bring pain and hatred on you?” They were silent, but it was all the answer Ontari needed. “You are weak.” Ontari whispered to herself, but it stung the little pride the man had left. “We did what we had to, to keep you safe.”

“You did what was best for you. Did what would keep you safe. I was your daughter but your lives were more important. For years I thought you kept me hidden from everyone for my own safety, but it was yours. I was your obligation, I was never your daughter.” Her mother leaps forward to try and wrap her arms around Ontari, screaming “You’re wrong!”  
Instinct played no part in Ontari’s actions, pure anger and vengeance commanded her hand to draw out her knife from her chest strap. Her hatred directed her hand to aim it at her shorter mother’s heart. And her pain stopped the feeling, stopped her caring that her mother’s red blood was gushing out of her chest, coating her hands and the floor beneath her. The parched and cracked lips are soon wet with the blood she coughs up as her body begins to shut down, she makes one last effort to bring her blood-soaked hand up, the broken skin ever so gently rests on Ontari’s face as tears well up in her vacant eyes, never getting the chance to fall. Half of Ontari’s face is decorated in her mother’s own blood. “No! Kaelen!” her father screams out in pain.

The body slumps to the floor with an empty thud as Ontari stands tall and with a wicked smile on her face, almost as wide as the queen’s. “What have you done?” He screams at her. “She was your mother!” He is shut up when a heavy leather boot collides with his chin, causing him to fall backwards away from his dead love. “Don’t worry father.” Ontari taunts him, “You will join her soon, and your miracle child.” The winded man is struggling to get breath into his weary lungs, his hand holding his broken jaw in place as Ontari slowly lowers her boot onto the man’s throat. Not sullying herself by lowering to his level. He claws and rips at the fabric of her clothes, searching for anything that would release him, gargling and desperate gasps for air echo around the room, joining in with the screams of the raging storm. He struggles to no avail as Ontari slowly, casually forces her boot down on his windpipe, not enough to cut off air completely. He is silent in his pleading as his eyes scream for her to show mercy, restraint, anything that will save him. “Relax, father. Do you not wish to see your wife again, your child? I thought you loved them. Like you could never love me.” 

“My daughter is dead” His last words of spite forced out through a slurred and broken, push Ontari over the edge as she slams all her force down into her foot, collapsing and severing his spine and wind-pipe. He dies instantly with a sick crack resounding around the hall. And Ontari is alone in this world. 

Months Later

The clash of swords buzzed around the fire lamp lit hall, the two women in simple training gear had been sparring. Their fights nearly always ended in ties, neither woman could gain an edge over the other. A loud knock on the door caught both their attention, yet distracted neither as they both attempted to capitalise on the other, with no success. Blow met blow with equal strength thrown behind both strikes. Again a fist slams on the heavy door from the other side, and again it is ignored by the two fighters. Both intent on making the other submit to their strength. Finally the door flies open and a hooded figure barges into the room with arrogance and narcissism making up most of his posture. He likely didn’t however expect to have two razor sharp blades pressed to his throat within a matter of seconds. Both women breathe exhausted breaths, but maintain their composure as deadly warriors in the presence of an unknown threat. “You have 20 seconds before I slit your throat where you stand.”

“I come from the Coalition Queen Nia, to offer a gift.” He then gestures to the still, hooded woman that lay tied in the cart that one of the Ice Nation guards was wheeling. While he was talking, Ontari tried to get a look at the man under the dark purple hood. It was pulled low and all she could see was the stubble on a wrinkled chin of pale skin. His voice is deep and demanding, yet not seemingly deserving of respect. Ontari holds her blade steady as the Queen lowers hers and moves to the sleeping girl in the trailer who seemingly has noticed that it had stopped moving, and was now trying to shout through what must be a gag. “Who the hell are you?” She shouts when the Queen pulls the ball of cloth from her mouth.

Ontari is truly dumfounded at the way this brash girl would address the queen of Azgeda, the largest Clan in the world left behind after the skies burned. The queen apparently more so, as she looks confused as to how to respond. She doesn’t have to as the girl recognises the man in the hood and turns her tirade on him. “What are you doing Titus?” Ontari can see a nasty looking purple bruise on the girls’ forehead above her right eye close to her temple. She goes to pull herself up but is stopped when she pulls against the metal shackles that are keeping her chained to the cart. Animalistic fury coats her eyes as her memories come back to her, slowly raising her hand to her eyes, she winces at a small touch to the bruise. 

The girl rages out of the cart, wrenching her chains out of their pin out of pure determination and striking the man called Titus in the back of the head, sending him forward into the wall, narrowly avoiding Ontari’s blade as she managed to move it out of the way in time. “Seize her!” The queen commands as Ontari and two guards rush towards the woman currently pulling her chains out of the cart. Caught off guard the woman manages to land a blow across Ontari’s head with the chains, dropping her winded body to the floor with a heavy thud. Her luck continues as she proceeds to force one of the guard’s faces into the fire of one of the torches, his screams are probably loud enough to wake the whole statue. Ontari ignores his agony and torment as the rebellious prisoner uses a cheap kick to the groin to subdue the other guard.

Ontari charges the distracted girl and hooks her arms around her midsection while allowing her momentum to push the girl up into the air before being slammed down to the unforgiving metal floor. The already drained Ontari uses all her strength to keep the struggling girl on the floor while more guards arrive. The burned guard is still screaming, he wails in agony when a bucket of water is dropped on his still burning face. He is quickly taken away as the other warriors can see the rage beginning to form on the Queen’s face. His screams can be heard for a few seconds before they are swiftly silenced. Two guards grab the writhing arms and pull them apart and off the ground so that the woman has no base to stand and defend herself.

“Let me go!” She screams while thrashing, trying to kick the guards who are struggling to maintain their grip. “Take her to a cell!” The queen screams at them.

“I trust there is a good reason that your gift just burnt the face off of one of my guards!” She rounds on the recovering bald man, his hood had fallen off of his head and a group of black circular tattoos had been revealed. Ontari still had her sword drawn, and was keeping a cautious distance from the mysterious man in case he tried something like his prisoner had. “She is the lover of my Heda.” He begins to explain, though his first words only demand more questions.

“So you are a traitor to your own commander.” The Queen accuses.

“No, the girl is a weakness to my Heda. A weakness that cannot be allowed to grow.”

The Queen’s interest clearly peaks at this understanding of the man’s intention. “My son could learn a thing or two from you. I found him in bed with a woman a few months ago, he tried to convince me he loved her.” The Queen chuckled at her son’s feelings. “He would not discard them. I banished him until he can learn that love is a weakness.”

“A wise decision Queen Nia. I seek to teach a similar lesson to my student. She claims love for that woman. I have tried repeatedly to explain how love can be used against oneself, so now I will show her instead.”

“By delivering her to your Heda’s enemies.”

“Yes.”

While the two exchange conversation Ontari observes the man himself. He is tall and proud in stature, but his clouded eyes hide years of torment. His hands have found their natural position clasped behind his back. What really unnerves Ontari is the complete lack of fear that she can feel from him. He clearly has no fear of being in the enemies halls, surrounded on all sides by those who would not hesitate to cut him down where he stood were it ordered.

“And what do we get in return for removing this” she hesitates, “weakness. I am hardly eager to lead my nation to war simply to educate your commander on what she should already know.” The Queen sheathes her sword but Ontari keeps hers drawn, instincts telling her not to give the man an edge.

“I would not expect that of a Queen, so recently victorious of a long civil war. But that is just it, I will show Lexa that attacking Ice Nation simply to take vengeance for one person’s life is no way to command. Instead she will invite you to join the coalition, she will not let her love weaken her rule. I will not let her.”

“How do you know that she will follow your advice? If someone took something I cared about, I would be sorely convinced to give it up.”

“Deliver the girls head to me, and I will deliver it as a challenge from Ice Nation. Lexa will want to accept the challenge but her duties won’t allow her to lead a war against Ice Nation simply to seek vengeance for one life. Such a sacrifice of her people’s lives will show her that love is a vulnerability, a weakness that enemies can use to exploit.”

Ontari doesn’t believe the man. She suspects he has his own ulterior motive for seeing to the girl’s removal. She’s about to say so when the queen speaks first. “I want something from you first.”

“What?”

“I want to find out what the girl knows first.”

“She knows very little, she was a healer, not a warrior. But if you so desire. Bring her head to this location in two weeks’ time.” He hands the Queen a map with an x marked in a forest near a large city. And with that he turns and walks out of the room, turning his back on the two women and pulling his hood over his head. Ontari is still stumped by the series of events that just occurred within five fast minutes. They had gone from defending themselves from intruders to accepting a deal to join a coalition of their making so quickly that Ontari felt the beginnings of whiplash beginning to form.

“Go to the girl Ontari, discover if she knows anything. Focus on learning about this Heda. And then kill her.” She nods her acceptance of the queen’s commands and heads out of the hall, leaving the queen alone in the empty training room.

From two floors above Ontari can hear the young girl’s screams and yells of threats and promises of violence upon release. The girl has a strong will, that much is plain as day to her. Ontari chuckles when she hears a particularly vulgar one, “I’ll rip your head off and shove it where the sun don’t shine.” Yes, she definitely had spirit.

The large round chamber was wet with the ice that was melting above and leaking through the cracked windows in the ceiling. The girl is hanging by her wrists at least a foot off of the ground. She is violently swinging, trying in some desperate attempt to escape. She quickly stops when her brown eyes lock on the entering form of Ontari. “Get out.” Ontari commands of the two guards standing beside the entranceway. Ontari drags a wooden chair across the metal ground, creating a sound similar to knives on rock. When she is sitting and looking up at the hanging girl she smiles. “Cute.” The prisoner mocks.

“What is your name prisoner?” Ontari pays the girl the smallest of respects for how she handled herself after being kidnapped.

“Costia.” The girl sighs out. The anger and ferocity had died out in her body, it would have been useless to her anyway. The girl before Ontari is dressed in warm clothes, with a few tears from where she’d had to fight to defend herself a few minutes prior. Her tight brown curls dropping to her shoulders. Dark brown eyes, filled with warmth and compassion are surrounded by small freckles that spread to cover her entire visible body. Her dark skin shines in the pale moonlight that creeps in through the ceiling.  
Ontari seats herself in front of the prisoner and thinks of a standard question to test the girl’s willingness to talk. “How many warriors does your coalition have?” Ontari questioned, not really expecting an accurate answer, or an answer at all.

“I have no idea, I healed the people that entered my tent, not those outside of it.” 

Ontari sighed, surprised she got that much from Costia. “How well supplied are your armies?”

“Again. I’m a healer, not a quartermaster. I have no idea.” Costia is plainly bored with this line of questioning, and has no reason to hide it.

“How many clans are in this Coalition your Heda has formed?”

“Figure it out yourself, I’m done.” Ontari sighs, but she was waiting for this. Her sparring session had been cut short and adrenaline was still pumping through her veins. She enters a combat stance and picks a soft location just under the girls left arm, where the ribcage finished. She only launches one blow but it is hard, focussed, and painful. The girl yells in pain, trying to bring her legs up in a mock foetal position. She straightens herself out and stretches her back, before breathing heavily.

“Just because your life has been full of beatings doesn’t mean that you know how to give them.” 

“I know what hurts most.”

“You know what hurts you most, that’s good not many people have figured that out yet.” Costia taunts her with her complete ignorance of her punishment. Ontari slams her fist forward again into the exact same position. She yelps in pain but drags her head back to rest against her arm. Costia sniffles before continuing. “Why are you doing this? You know I know nothing useful to you. Does your Queen just like having her prisoners know their place is beneath her, and she sends you to do her dirty work?”

Ontari halts before throwing her next blow, the girl’s words throwing her off kilter for a moment. “Oh that’s it isn’t it? You’re the queen’s muscle, no brains but a good fighter.” The girl coughed as another blow lands hard into her midsection, she coughs a few drops of blood, and a torn shirt show where the blow landed. “Seems like you know it too, if you weren’t so insecure of your worth to the Queen you’d be saving your energy and not hitting so hard.”

“She trained you I’m guessing you. No classes or books, just fighting non-stop. Am I right?” Ontari stumbled back into the chair, trying to ignore the words being spoken to her by her subject, desperate to block them out and not consider the merit behind them. “I know what needs to be known. How to fight and how to survive.” The girl huffs, “You know how to do what she wants, hurt and kill the people she wants. You know nothing about life but how to take it away at the will of a power hungry monster. It’s sad really.”

Desperate to change the topic, Ontari continues with another demand. “Tell me about Lexa.” Leaning back heavily in the creaky chair. “My Heda. The woman that united 11 clans without bloodshed.” Costia doesn’t try to stop a look of pride as she recounts the accomplishments if the woman she loves. While Ontari wonders how it felt to be proud of someone the way this girl was. Her own relationship with the Queen was similar, yet not. She knew that they’d won the war, but no details or if the Queen had even been involved in their victory. Costia continues, “The woman that would stand in the frontlines of her warriors and charge into battle alongside them, as one of them.”

“So your leader would allow herself to die or be captured in battle. Not a very intelligent leader.

“Maybe not but it has never been tested. In fact, Lexa did more in one year of diplomacy then Azgeda in 16 years of battle and bloodshed. Which sounds like a smart strategy if I do say so.” The ringing of chains was drowned out by the grunt of pain the hanging girl released when Ontari slammed her closed fist at full force into the area where a bruise would be forming on the skin coating her ribcage. “You will not question the methods of my Queen. War is not always about the resolution, but the message that it sends. No citizen of Azgeda will dare stand against the Queen.”

“And how many will stand with her?” Costia retorts, spitting blood onto the floor beneath her.

“Enough. I want to know about how Lexa fights. You should know a little about that shouldn’t you. You were her lover after all.” Ontari shakes her wrist up and down to try and wring out the stiffness from using it so vigorously. “I’m afraid I can’t help you there. I deplore fighting and she knew it. I was never invited to a fight or even a training session, and I am glad for it. I see the aftermath enough, I’d prefer not to see what causes it.” 

“What about her leadership then? How does she rule her people?” Ontari is getting aggravated by Costia’s ability to so easily dance around her questions. Though Costia does seem slightly more interested in the conversation. “Fairly. No clan is placed higher then another, and no voice is ignored. The clans did not join her because they felt threatened to. It was because they saw a chance to unite and grow as one people rather than war against each other as separate clans. She does not even show bias to her own clan. A strong trust has been built already, a delicate one that she works hard to maintain.”

“I hear pride in your voice Costia.”

“Should I not have pride in my commander, in my love? Or do you not know what that feels like?” Costia doesn’t seem to be learning her lesson as Ontari slams her fist into the girl’s body again. “Do you think that she is coming to save you?”

“I can hope so I suppose. But I am no fool. If I die here then so be it.” Ontari’s eyebrow quirks at the girl’s apparent acceptance of her demise. “Would she avenge you?” 

“She would do what is needed of her, what is best for the thousands of people who depend on her to keep them safe and at peace. She would not throw that away just for me.” A small chuckle manages to escape Ontari’s mouth. She finds it funny that someone could be so naïve. “Then how can you say she loves you? How can you love her if she will not fight to avenge you?”

“I love her because of the person she is, not necessarily her actions. Because she does what she was born and raised to do. To forget her own feelings and desires because she must always come second to her people. Lexa has the weight of so much on her shoulders, and it can only be her burden to bear. I will never hold her responsibilities to her people against her.” Costia grunts out, her face wincing as the bruise on her lungs throbs against her lungs and ribs. “There will come a day when she will be released from that burden. And on that day I will welcome her into my arms again. But until then she will endure.”

“How? You are never leaving this cell again Costia.”

“Death is not the end. And I truly hope for your sake that someday, someone makes you realise that some people are worth dying for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was rather nervous, involving Costia, I am hopeful that i did her justice.  
> Thanks for reading!!


	13. Breaking Through

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jasper Hikes through the immense forest in search of Raven but his progress is halted when someone he thought dead begins to stalk him on his journey.

Jasper  
Water flowed over the rocks that years of being submerged in the stream had smoothed over, the canopy of shade that hid the creak from the sun also kept the water cool. It felt refreshing for Jasper as he plunged his head into the water and felt it lap at his sweaty face. He’d been hiking through the forest for an hour, following the river. He hoped that Raven would stay close to a source of flowing water, like they’d learnt in Pike’s earth skills classes back on the Ark. Jasper pushes his whole head into the clear stream to try and get the sweat on the back of his head without getting his clothes wet. With his open eyes under the water he watches small fish and tadpoles’ whish past him, some occasionally grazing his skin. The small rocks and pieces of twigs and leaves that flowed through the water like they would threw the wind made him sad. In six months this will be nothing but radioactive ash and dust. 

He pulled himself from the river when he felt his lungs begin to demand air again. Slowly withdrawing himself from the cool embrace to enter the simmering air again, he leans back against a tree and breathes deeply while letting his tired eyes absorb all the beauty that was breathed into this forest since the first bombs dropped. He hoped beyond hope that all the lush verdure would be able to rebuild itself yet again after a second nuclear fire. The people certainly wouldn’t live to see the forest reborn, he knew that. Jasper grabbed a rag from the bag that sat between his legs and began to dry his face and his short hair. He remembered how Maya had used to ruffle his wavy locks when they were relaxing on an old leather couch in the mountain. He looked at his nails to see that they were all filled with dirt underneath them, he sighed before shoving them into the water with an indistinct splash and quickly cleared them out. With his fingers clean Jasper pulled a small green apple from the pack and munched it down in to it and enjoyed the juicy fruit for a few minutes before he pulled himself up from the tree and swung the light pack onto his back and started moving again. 

He locked his fingers around the muddy wooden stick that he’d picked up on his trek, swinging it absent-mindedly he continued on his search for Raven. Through a gap in the tree canopy above him he caught sight of the mountain that loomed over the forest. The satellite dishes that hadn’t been destroyed in the explosion were barely standing, charred and crooked while they fought against the strong wind to stay upright. He turned his face away, willing himself not to be distracted, to not allow himself to be controlled by his pain and regret again.

A small sting distracted him and he scratched at the back of his neck. He scratched and itched until the back of his neck was hot and stinging with friction but the stinging sensation still annoyed him. Pushing forward through a thick hedge, willing himself to ignore the annoyance until he got back to Abi, he must have an infection or something, it wouldn’t surprise him given their living conditions. Returning to swinging his stick around him, Jasper continued on this path for a while longer until the river diverted to the east. He followed it, not having any other direction to follow.

Tingles shot down his skin when he heard the howls again. So much closer now. A squirrel that had been sitting on a branch scampered into a hole that had been carved into a tree with a shrill but terrified squeak. Whatever was making those noises caused everything to run and hide, if he had any sense he probably would too. He swallowed loudly and willed his legs to keep moving, slower and more cautious now, with his hand sitting very closely to the gun sitting in the back of his pants. “Oh, of course they would be coming from this way.” He muttered to himself, trying and failing to keep a positive attitude, when he realised that the roars were coming from the same direction that the stream was heading towards.

The animal growls became more and more frequent as he continued walking, until it became nearly indistinguishable when one finished and the next began. Jasper’s eyes were wide with anxiety and the adrenaline careening through his veins was keeping him constantly twitching. His breathes were short and quick, and his skin had begun to sweat out of nervousness. He jumped when he heard the clash of his wooden stick against a metal fence that he hadn’t noticed growing out of the trunk of a tree he was walking past. Or to be more accurate was being slowly enveloped by the tree. Jasper approached the wire and began to try and pull it from the tree to no avail. For years this tree must have been growing and absorbing the fence until they’d become inseparable. Jasper adjusted his footing to get a better grip on the fence but stopped when his heavy leather boot landed on something flat and metal. Brushing the leaves away revealed a rusted and nearly incomprehensible sign. The only words that he could make away from the charred sign were “Danger! Do Not.” He didn’t need to be able to finish the sign to know what it was saying. This fence must have been built before the bombs fell to keep something locked away from the people, Jasper had a feeling he knew what.

He dreaded to imagine what they were keeping in. The howls rang out through the forest again almost on cue and he whispered to himself. “Guess I’ll find out soon enough.” The howls almost sounded playful, he could swear that there was even joy in the shrieks. And that was what scared him. If whatever was making the noises was happy, he doubted that it could possibly for something good. 

Jasper closed his hand around the grip of his gun, closing his eyes, not able to look at it. He knew that it was a necessity if he was going to run into whatever these things were. But the cold metal and rubber of the handle were almost as scary to him as the creatures he was moving towards. Swallowing down his fears of letting his anguish consume him again, he kept moving past the sign, the border of these animals land he guessed. The mountain now looming to his right side, standing tall in the early afternoon sunlight. As he was walking, he noticed that he was the only one. There was not a single animal in sight, no squirrels or birds. He was completely alone, not even the buzzing of flies was there to offer a hint of distraction anymore. The howls stopped suddenly and the air was empty. Nothing but the sound of his feat crushing dry leaves. They knew he was here. Whatever they were, they could sense that he was here. Probably stalking him this very moment.

“Jasper.” She said in a quiet whisper. There was an awkwardness to the voice as if the wielder was not use to the sound of it. Like they had only recently started using that voice. A cold robotic presence of one that had never used another’s voice before.

Jasper shot around, but he was dumbstruck by the woman that stood before him with pale skin and frizzy black hair. After so many already, he still couldn’t stop the tears that welled in his eyes at her image.

“No!” Jasper shouted at the girls face as he tripped over a tree behind him, unable to take his eyes off her as the tears slowly tracked a path down his face. He scramble to his feet and pulled the gun out of his belt, taking aim right between the girl’s eyes.

“You’re dead!”

“No! Jasper I’m here.” The inexperience of the voice was quickly fading as she sounded more and more authentic. Her voice was now soothing as she reached out to try and touch Jasper, but he screamed at her. “Stay away from me! You’re not real! You can’t be!” She says nothing, but simply moves towards him. Jasper turns to run, finally breaking eye contact with her. But she is there. In front of him, as perfect as the day he met her. All those months ago in her pristine purple dress. “Get away from me! Leave me alone!” Jasper runs around her into the woods, further along the river. It is no use though, every time he blinked she had reappeared in front of him, his legs were barely able to keep him upright with his constant need to change direction to avoid running into her. The sweat flooding his back does not appear on her. He has no idea how she is maintaining pace with him without showing the effects and he doesn’t care. He keeps running. Jasper clamps his eyes shut to try and block her image but he can still here her voice calling out to him to let her in, he cries out for her to go away repeatedly. Inevitably he trips over a rock and crashes hard into the rocky river-bed. Groaning in pain, feeling similar to all the mornings’ he’d awoken with a splitting headache from his hangover.

As he lay moaning in the damp rocks, groaning for peace. She reappears next to him and gently gathers his form up in her arms and pulled him close to her. The dreary boy weakly tries to pull away but she doesn’t let him go. “It’s me Jasper. You know it is.” There was no way to notice that the owner of the voice was not native to it, he’d known and loved that voice and now could easily confuse the original and whatever this phantom was. A groggy Jasper can’t fight anymore and simply relaxes into the embrace for a second. He jolts awake and his body falls through the empty air where she had just been holding him. He jumps to his feet, face wet with tears that quickly began to dry. He rubs his hands in his face but surprises himself when the cold metal of the gun in his hand scratches his forehead. Spinning around he tries to see her but she’s gone. He laughs nervously before pushing the gun into his pants again. Jasper plunges into the river again, trying to clear his head of the hallucination, and failing. “Must have been in the sung too long.” He jokes to himself. Looking over his shoulder every few seconds trying to see anything out of the ordinary only to find nothing leaves him feeling uneasy. His body twitches constantly as he forces his mind to focus solely on finding Raven, he didn’t have time to let his pain play tricks on him.

\--

He’d been walking for a few minutes before the howls screamed through the forest again. He almost relished in them, if anything he welcomed them as a conformation that he was in the real world again. He smiled for a moment before the realisation sunk in that the howls couldn’t be more than a mile away. Jasper slowed down his pace so that his footsteps on the pebbles wouldn’t make much noise. His head was on a constant swivel as he slowly scurried over the rocks. Never seeing anything, but he had no doubt that there was something watching him now. The hairs on his spine were constantly on end, and he swore he could hear the heavy breathing coming from the shrubs all around the river. 

Without warning a black blur leaped from the bush behind him into the trees across the river, visible for a split second before disappearing into the shadow again. They were playing with him. Jasper jumped out of the riverbed and broke into a sprint through the forest. His chest was pounding and his breathes shooting out of him fast and heavy, his lungs burning with the sudden exertion. He maintain this for very long, the exhaustion he was already suffering wouldn’t allow him to. Whatever they were. Clearly they were a lot faster. They hadn’t taken him down yet which meant they didn’t want to. Which meant he had a chance. They wouldn’t let him go, but they wouldn’t attack him until they were ready. Jasper was convinced that whatever these things were, he had no chance against even one of them let alone the apparent pack if the multitude of howls was any way to judge. Determination was the only thing keeping him moving, he would not fail his friend again, not after he’d betrayed them all to ALIE, he had to be stronger. He’d come out into these woods to find Raven and he wasn’t going to give up on her. He would find a way to fight them. From the brief look he’d gotten at the massive creature, it didn’t appear to be very proficient in climbing. That was it. His one chance would be to find a tall tree to climb, and then to try and take them out from a vantage point.

One was coming up with lots of low branches that he grabbed onto, ignoring the stabbing pain as a small stub broke the skin of his palm. Pulling himself up with sheer determination through the rustling leaves and thin branches until he was sitting at a comfortable distance from the ground. The deafening sounds of thunderous howls and barks screamed up at him, only making him climb faster.

He breathed out a slow sigh of relief before and relaxed his eyes for a second, hoping for a moment of reprieve from the monstrous growls. He wasn’t allowed even that. He hung on with all his strength when the tree shook violently. Jasper’s grip on the branch was too loose to withstand the constant battering and his footing was torn out from underneath him, his body plummeted to the earth, barely a second in the air before his back crashed hard into a bed of leaves and twigs. The last sound before he went unconscious was a small, nearly incoherent chuckle, and the last thing he saw was her inflamed, burn covered skin.

\--

“It’s time to wake up Jasper.” A sweet voice hummed in a singsong tone. The groaned as he slowly opened his eyes to look up in into the dark brown eyes of the pale girl. He launched himself off the ground towards the tree but she was nowhere to be seen anywhere. Instead he was surrounded on all sides by creatures the size of bears and the height of horses with thick furs blowing in the strong wind that was rustling through the valley. Piercing eyes of all colours were locked on his body, not blinking. They breathed heavily, releasing soft growls of desire and bloodlust. Jasper’s heart rate was already racing but he froze to the spot when he saw the beast’s teeth. Two rows, the first row curved toward the front of the snout while the second set were arched backwards into the large mouth of the beast. He’d be ripped apart in an instant. Jasper delicately crouched down to the ground where his gun had landed, his eyes locked on the jaws of the closest beast, with pitch black fur and gleaming white eyes. He was so focused on not making sudden movements that he didn’t hear the sound of approaching footsteps. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you Jasper. They’re not massive fans of guns.”

Jasper barely resisted the urge to spin around to face the familiar and playful voice that he thought he’d never hear again. Maintaining his delicacy, Jasper began to turn his lean frame around to face her. She was sitting tall and proud upon the largest of the creatures that surrounded him. She had the worn red leather jacket with her sleeves pulled up to her elbows just like she always did. But better than that. She was smiling. It had been so long since he’d seen it. All her sparkling white teeth. Her eyes glowing with happiness. Jasper almost cried at seeing the friend he thought lost, like everyone else that he’d let down. “Raven?” He choked out almost thinking he was lost in another hallucination. Remembering her words he began to push the gun into the back of his pants. At the sight, the creatures began to slightly relax their positions some. Predatory eyes never left his lanky form though.

Raven jumped down from the mount to land firmly on her legs with the agility of a child. Her hand quickly moved to favour her knee, massaging it a little. As she walked with a nearly unnoticeable limp towards her friend she ran her hands through the fur of the beast, giving it a little tickle behind its tall ears. Jasper unsure of his footing in this situation stayed still and allowed her to reach him. Raven reached up on the tips of her toes so that she could reach around Jasper’s neck. For a few moments Jasper relaxed into the comforting embrace, allowed himself to feel the warmth, allowed it to remind him that he hadn’t failed her this time. But the tingles running through his body quickly reminded him of their current, rather enclosed situation. Raven sensed Jasper's apprehension and pulled away from the hug. “Back up. Back up. Give him some room.” Raven shoos away the beasts surrounding them as if they were small rodents, and Jasper looks at her like she was truly mad. But that look soon turns to surprise when he sees them all turn away and lay down in a group a few trees away, eyes still trained on him, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. “I see a few things have changed.” Jasper comments, while unable to look away from the animals with nervousness in his own eyes.

“They know you’re scared Jasper.” 

“Huh, you don’t say.” Jasper jokes, filling the air with nervous laughter.

“How are you walking?” Jasper asks as they walk to the stream where Raven dips a water bottle that had been hanging from her hip into the flowing cold water.

“One of ALIE’s keys, I reprogrammed it to act as a reinforcement for the damaged neurons that connect it to my brain.” She chuckles when she sees Jasper’s complete lack of understanding. “It’s acting as a brace so my body doesn’t have to work so hard to keep me upright. It isn’t a perfect fix by any means, my leg will never fully heal but I can run again Jasper. I never thought I would again.”

“That’s brilliant.” Jasper exclaims with genuine excitement and elation, not even Abi thought that Raven would ever get better. 

Before they can continue their reunion the radio on Jasper’s belt crackles into life, the heads of the resting creatures jump up primed and alert at the alien sound. “Jasper this is Monty please come in.”

“Monty I’m here. I’ve found her.” Jasper reports the news with an elated tone. Jasper is the happiest he’d been in months, today he hadn’t had to run from computer controlled zombies, or vicious warriors, even the weather had been pretty mild. And his friend had engineered her way to walking again. “Hey Monty!” Raven calls into the radio.

“Oh thank god.” Monty exclaims, his relief is obvious even through the radio. “Hey everyone, Jasper found Raven!” The two hear Monty shout out to whoever would be listening on their end. They even hear a cheer in response to Monty’s announcement. 

Remembering the reason Monty and Miller had to return to Kane Jasper asks “How is the situation there?”

“Not good. It’s ALIE’s chips. They’re still affecting people. Abi thinks that they’re slowly incinerating themselves inside of people’s heads, she thinks it’s why Ericson tried to attack Octavia.”

“When did Octavia come back?” Raven questions. The last she’d seen of her friend was when she’d left for Polis to fight ALIE, she hadn’t returned with them. “She helped Clarke fend of Ice Nation when we came to the dropship.” Monty quickly explains.

“Give me the radio.” A soft motherly tone resonates in the background of Monty’s transmission. “Raven are you there?” The caring voice of Abi Griffin broadcasts from the device. “I’m here Abi, god it’s good to hear your voice.” Little did Raven know the small tears that Abi was allowing to drip at hearing the younger woman’s voice. She hadn’t seen Raven with her own eyes since she’d stopped her from bleeding out after ALIE had taken control of Raven’s body. “It’s good to hear yours too Raven.”

“You said the chips were incinerating.” Raven starts, her technological mind was always eager to move on to the newest problem on the seemingly never ending list, but Jasper notices her wipe her eye with the small of her hand, trying to hide her joy at hearing the older woman’s voice. Raven is walking towards the creatures who’re all getting to their feet, leaving Jasper to feel extremely glad that these massive beasts were somehow under Raven’s command. The girl jumped onto the nearest wolf, the one with black fur and piercing white eyes. “I hope you know the way to Arkadia Jasper.”

“Don’t I get a ride?”

“Be my guest.” Raven gestures her arm to the pack behind her, all wearing glares that tell Jasper that if he even thinks about it, they’ll rip him apart.

“I think I’ll walk.” Jasper laughs easily, sharing a joke with his friend, like they had so long ago when things had been simple, when everything that hadn’t fallen from the Ark was a threat. “What are the chips doing Abi? How do you know they’re incinerating?”

“On the back of Ericson’s neck, it looked like someone had held a torch to it for hours, except from the inside of his body. The chip must have been disrupting his regular brain chemistry. I have not seen many people so desperate for violence in my life.”

“That makes sense, the chip latches onto the brain and controls the synapses. If the synapses burn, there’s no way to know how a person will react.” Jasper works on getting his bearings with their current location while the two ladies exchange their theories on their most recent predicament. Knowing that Mount Weather was to his west, allowed him to work out the path back home. “You’re saying that all this started once ALIE went offline?” Raven questions Abi.

“Yes. She must have been maintaining the chips before Clarke deactivated her.” Abi explains her hypothesis. “That makes sense. Now that she’s gone, there’s no program to maintain the chips, and now they’re breaking down while still in people’s heads. That means everyone in Skaikru and most of Polis is at risk.” Raven concludes.

“Yes, the only people safe are the ones who weren’t chipped when she went offline, Clarke, Bellamy, Monty and the rest of them who saved us.”

Jasper doesn’t need to guess that Raven is looking on with sadness and concern in her eyes at her friend who gave in and took the chip, betrayed them to ALIE, now left to suffer these consequences because of it. 

“We need a way to get the chips deactivated and out of people’s heads.” Abi explains.

“We don’t even have the materials for a single EMP Abi, how are we meant to remove hundreds of chips?”

“I don’t know Raven, but we need to come up with something.” Abi sighs through the radio. “It’s ok Abi, we’ll sort it out.” Raven tries to comfort her friend, they’d been through a lot together in the past months and she doubted that this would stop them.

“Wait, Raven you said you took a chip to help with the damage, you could be affected too.”

The engineer is about to respond when Abi cuts her off. “Raven what is Jasper talking about. Please tell me you didn’t take another chip.”

Raven is quick to reassure the both of them. “It’s alright, it was one that I reprogrammed. The chip I took was programmed to bridge the synapses not upload a personality to a cloud and to rewire the brain. My chip is running a much simpler program that requires far less processing power. It doesn’t need to be maintained like the others do, it’s in sync with my body so whenever my leg is inactive, the chip is recharging.”

“Raven you know better than to experiment on yourself. Expect a full diagnostic and check-up when we’ve got this mess sorted out.” Abi feigns disappointment over the radio but Raven could sense the pride the older woman had for her friend’s ingenuity. “You know it Abi.” She responded to Abi’s warning.

“Raven Kane needs to talk to you and Jasper.”

“Put him on.”

“Raven, it’s good to hear you. I’m sorry but the chips aren’t our only concern. Ontari has returned Polis.” Jasper spins around and approaches Raven’s mount to better hear the conversation. “What? I ALIE had Jaha kill her!” Jasper exclaims.

“She was one of the clones from Becca’s facility.”

“What are you guys talking about? Who’s Becca?” Jasper had forgotten Raven’s ignorance of the recent developments at the dropship. “Jasper can explain. But you two need to be careful. There’s no telling what she will do, or who is supporting her. We’re arriving at Arkadia now. You two need to be careful, don’t take any chances. Kane out.” 

“I think we’ll be alright.” Raven says confidently, patting the head affectionately of the magnificent creature she’s riding. “Now what’s this about Becca’s facility?”

\--

Jasper spent the better part of the next hour retelling the story of how Clarke and Octavia had discovered Becca’s facility while searching for Raven. How Lincoln and Lexa had both emerged with completely new bodies untouched by the pasts their memories bore. Raven couldn’t, and didn’t want to hide her joy at the news that Lincoln was back where he belonged, with Octavia. Jasper wasn’t surprised that she wasn’t as particularly thrilled when she’d learnt that Lexa had also returned, which he could understand given the history between the two women. Raven was secretly glad that Clarke had her back, she remembered how ALIE had tried to taunt Clarke with her death at the trading station, using her voice. 

Raven was most excited however to meet this Becca, to be able to talk to the person who engineered the only known AI in human existence, even if it was a genocidal one, was an absolutely thrilling opportunity that the engineer inside her was dying to take.

They were walking quietly until the wolves stopped in their tracks, Jasper didn’t even realise until he was a few meters ahead of them. The clearing they stood in was open to the setting sun that hung above them, skies filled with passionate reds and dazzling oranges that shone down on them. Raven slid herself of the ‘wolf’ as she’d explained to Jasper who’d never once paid attention in biology class, usually due to his being high with Monty in the back. “What’s wrong?” Raven questions her pack. Jasper thinks her silly to expect an answer from the wolf, he is proven wrong when the same animal digs its foot into the ground of old and dry leaves they walk on, and pulls up old and rusted fencing. The same as Jasper had discovered a few hours ago.

“It must be their border. For their territory.” Jasper hazards a guess. Remembering the sign, he makes the connection. “I saw a sign earlier with a danger warning. All those years ago before the bombs dropped, this must have been some kind of enclosure where their kind lived.”

Raven’s mind travels to the story Clarke told her about how she and Lexa narrowly escaped the Pauna by trapping it within its own building. These wolves must have been raised to not cross the border. Raven reaches out her hand to the wolf she’d ridden. She gently pulled the fencing out of its clawed paw. The age of the fence and all the harsh weather it had endured in a hundred years allowed her to easily pull it apart for all the wolves to see. Throwing the pieces to either side of her, Raven reached out to gently pat the wolf, and began to lead it through the gap. It was hesitant at first, its eyes never leaving Raven’s like a child’s never leave their mothers’. “It’s ok. It’s time to go.” Raven coos gently once the first wolf is passed and the others hesitate. Raven personally guides all of her pack across their border, patiently treating each like her own child, letting them go at their own pace. Jasper watched from a distance, amazed at how close she was with these creatures after knowing them for so little time.

Once all the wolves were through Raven congratulated each and every one of them with encouraging words filled with motherly love while they surrounded her. The sun had set and the small clearing had fallen into darkness, the only sounds accompanying them was the running water and the occasional insect buzzing around them.

Jasper continued to lead the convoy home, his eyes mostly kept on the ground to try and not trip over any roots or rocks. But his head shot up when he heard the rustle of leaves in the bush next to him. His eyes weren’t very well adjusted to the dark but he could make out the form of a shorter person. “Who are you?” Jasper called out to no response.  
“What do you see Jasper?” Raven questions, calling for a stop in the pack. All eyes locked on where Jasper was facing. 

“It’s me Jasper.” The girl whispered quietly. “No, no, no. You’re not real.” Jasper moaned while holding his hands over his ears and slamming his eyes shut. Turning away as the girl emerged from the bush to reach out and rest her hand on Jasper’s shoulder. “Can’t you see her?” Jasper shouted, pointing right where the girl was. Raven, impossibly confused, got off the wolf and carefully began to approach the distressed man. “Jasper there’s no one there.”

“She’s right in front of you.” He pointed to the empty space in front of him, causing Raven to worry. “She can’t see me Jasper, only you can. Please let me in.”

“Please. Please, leave me alone.” Jasper begs. “Let me go.”

“I can’t let you go Jasper. I need you. Don’t you want to help me?”

“You’re dead. You died in my arms three months ago.” Jasper sobs, falling to his knees, begging to thin air for mercy. Raven had no idea how to help him. Gently crouching on the ground next to him, she is thrown backwards when Jasper lashes out, unable to tell who is who anymore. Raven quickly calms the wolves who had growled at the sign of aggression against their beloved alpha.

Raven watched as Jasper cradled himself up into a foetal position on the ground, wailing in pain and torment, muttering over and over again. “Leave me alone.” Letting them reverberate around the trees, nothing else can be heard.

“I need you to help me Jasper. If you loved me you would help me.”

“I did love you. But you died.”

“You can bring me back Jasper. You can hold me again. You can fix all the mistakes. I just need you to let me in.” The girl pleads with him. Jasper stopped crying and pulled his head from his hands to finally look at the girl in her eyes. Her beautiful, loving eyes. “How?” He asks with a croaky voice.

“Just let me in. I can take care of the rest. Just say my name and I will be yours again.”

Those gentle eyes that had grabbed him and never let go. How could he possibly say no to her? His shaking hand reaches out for her outstretched hand as he lets her in. He needs her.

“Maya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're back in the present day now, thanks to everyone that put up with my need to focus on Ontari. I know she isn't exactly well liked but I was always curious to know more about her. An since we likely won't be getting the chance I thought I may as well have fun with it.
> 
> Anyway this is a quick update on Jasper and Raven, the next chapter will focus on Clarke and Lexa fighting Ontari for Polis.


	14. Capture The Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa, Clarke, Octavia, and Lincoln infiltrate the Commander's tower in the hopes that they may stop Ontari before she causes too much damage on a city that hasn't even had the chance to heal yet.

Clarke

The rope had started burning against her hand a few minutes ago, and the harsh winds blowing her from side to side made her extremely nauseous. The urge to vomit was only outweighed by the will to not look down. The elevator shaft inside the tower had been blown apart by Kane under ALIE’s control. That hadn’t mattered at the time seeing as Clarke hadn’t planned on ever returning. Even her preoccupied self couldn’t help but find it ironic that only a few days later she was already back, trying to stop Ontari yet again. The winds that howled harshly around her quickly dragged her back to the moment as it began to bite at her fingers as it cruelly begged her to lose her grip. 

A hand reached across from the rope next to her, the gentle hand that had never seen a day of training in its lifetime, yet held the remembered strength gained only through years of loss and perseverance. Across the few feet of space between them that felt like a chasm she looked into the trusting eyes. Clarke knew that Lexa was hurting, the weight of every person whose bodies were being collected on the ground far below them was tearing at her being. But still Lexa had the strength to make sure that Clarke was alright. She had the rope wrapped around her foot in a way that made it act as if she were standing on a step rather than hanging in the air. A small nod was exchanged between them and Clarke felt strength beginning to form, enough to keep going, to survive. She closed her eyes and focussed solely on the taunting breeze around her, before focussing on the cracked brick wall in front of her, and reaching up along the rope.

Lexa called out over the breeze, seeing that they had nearly reached the top, ‘We enter here!’ They both felt affirming tugs on the ropes below them, a simple acceptance of the command from the two warriors climbing after them.

Carefully unhooking her foot from the makeshift step, she mustered all the momentum she could without swinging the rope too much, before she launched across the gap. Clarke watched with baited breath as Lexa elegantly sailed through the air, with the grace Clarke had come to expect of her. The landing was just as gracefully executed, reaching the balcony with space to spare and rolling through with trained precision. Quickly Lexa returned to the balcony and reached out her hand to the hanging blonde. Clarke took it, the grip was tight but relaxed as Lexa wrenched the weight of both Clarke and Lincoln hanging below her across the ravine. Clarke, rushing to get onto the balcony, completely missed the step and instead fell right into Lexa’s ready arms. To her credit, Lexa did not fall back to the ground, only into the wall behind her with a loud thump. A few seconds passed with her eyes clamped shut, still scared to lower her feat to the ground Clarke wasn’t certain was there. ‘You made it Clarke.’ Lexa whispered gently but encouragingly in her ear before lowering the blonde to the ground herself.

Clarke tried to bring her heavy breathing under control as she rested her back against the smooth tiled wall. Her hand pressed flat against the solid floor that held her steady. ‘Never thought heights would be the thing that got you Clarke.’ Octavia jokes as she and Lincoln pass over the ledge with obvious ease. ‘Shut up O.’ came the annoyed response as she took the hand that Octavia was offering her. The infectious smile on her face bewildered every ounce of sense that Clarke had. They’d just hung hundreds of feet in the air and she was making cheap jokes, before she saw the hand that was intertwined with the black haired warrior. Clarke realised that Octavia was feeling, exactly how she was feeling. Nothing could dampen the feeling of having back what had been so cruelly stolen. 

Clarke understood that. And took Lexa’s hand in turn; who did not question, only held tight.

The extravagantly large room that the balcony was attached to, was taken up by three wooden barrels twice as tall as them and the same width across. ‘Wine.’ Lexa answered the question she guessed was coming.

Lexa drew one of her swords while the other hand closed around the handle of the splintered wooden door. ‘Ontari was alone wasn’t she?’ Lincoln questions from behind Lexa. ‘Ontari had supporters.’ Lexa explains her caution. ‘You had enemies.’ Octavia quips. Clarke’s eyes grow wide, there had never been any love lost between the two women, but it seemed like Octavia was actively trying to provoke Lexa. What was more surprising to Clarke though, was the commander’s cool response. ‘I did what I had to do, what was best for my people, I never demanded they like it.’ She said without even turning to face her accuser. Clarke couldn’t miss the small surprise and annoyance that danced across her friends face until it became focussed again in an instant. 

Clarke drew her pistol. She, with the least combat training stood behind Lincoln and Octavia who both drew a sword and a smaller knife that could be thrown in each hand, ready for any type of fight they might encounter. The door cracked open without a sound as Lexa cautiously peered out into the corridor. 

The hand holding her sword raised a single finger, with absolutely no hesitation Lincoln brought his knife close to his chest and flipped it so he held the blade rather than the handle. Before he could pass Lexa she halted him with her arm. A simple shake of her head was all the instruction Lincoln needed. The Commander did not want unnecessary death, and he understood.

Lincoln placed the blade back in his belt and passed his sword to Clarke to hold as Octavia followed behind him, always having his back. 

Clarke and Lexa followed, keeping watch on the other end of the corridor in case of unwanted surprises. Clarke watched as Lincoln slowly snuck up behind a single solitary soldier. He was armed to the teeth with two swords resting at his side, a bow on his back, and an intimidatingly large knife strapped to his thigh. He was looking out over the city below him, seemingly unaware of the threat approaching him. Clarke could see smudged white body paint on his exposed arms and running through his flowing black hair. Ice Nation, likely one of the guards Roan would have ordered to keep an eye on Ontari. Lincoln crept along the corridor eyes locked on his target until he was only a few feet behind and ready to make his move. 

The shattered remnants of the large panes of glass that hung from the frames were covered in dust from the many storms they’d endured in their long lives. The dust was not thick enough though. Octavia was watching the man’s head, trying to spot any possible movements, or signs that he was aware of them. By mere chance, her focus flicked to the glass in front of him. Cold eyes glinted with evil intent stared back at her.

In the time it took to blink the warrior’s falsely relaxed grip on his blades had tightened and he’d spun around with the two swords held over his head in preparation to bring them down onto the back of Lincoln’s head.

But they never hit their target. 

With only a moments more warning then Lincoln, Octavia used it to raise the swords in either hand to catch the swing of the warrior, and cradle his blades in between her own crossed ones. The thunderous clang of metal shot down the hallways and made Clarke and Lexa, who had been caught off guard, flinch.

Adrenalin took over as Lincoln, without an ounce of hesitation, analyses the situation; Octavia has the man’s blades trapped in a cradle, leaving her just as open and vulnerable as he. But it gives Lincoln a chance. He surges forward the last few inches, slamming his shoulder into the soldiers exposed midsection while locking his hands around the Azgeda warriors back. He roars with the exertion of strength it takes, as he lifts the startled warrior onto his shoulders for a split second; before he slams the man back first onto a piece of cracked concrete. The clatter of his weapons falling beside him is soon followed by the heavy grunts of pain as Lincoln follows through with his body slam by allowing all of his own body weight to crash down on the defenceless fighter.

But fight still remained in the enemy’s battered body. The Azgeda warrior tried to rise to his feet only to feel the razor sharp tips of two swords pressed tightly against his throat. He raises his hands above his head in surrender, disappointment and contained rage burn through his lidded eyes as he is raised to his feet. That rage does not stay locked away for long, as his eyes wrench apart when Lexa enters their field of view. Using the little strength left, he makes a final, defiant move, ‘No Heda!’ He spits at Lexa before the hard handle of a sword is brought down on the back of his head, levelling him out and leaving him unconscious on the floor in a quickly forming puddle of his own drool.

No one speaks as the group stays in a single file line behind Lincoln who leads them to the staircase. Continuing the Commander’s example of cautiousness over brashness he holds up a hand calling for a halt. He kneels down and leans his head lightly against the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. With his ear pressed tightly against the door, he tries to focus in on any sounds coming from within the staircase. The winds blowing in through the empty windows are the only sounds that invade the hallways. 

Lincoln freezes when he hears the small, almost unnoticeable whistle of a sharp blade being moved through the air. He stays to make sure that he didn’t confuse it with the wind, but when it happens a second time he is certain. He simply nods to relay his message that there was a fight waiting for them on the other side of the door. 

Clarke thought to herself that at a time like this she wouldn’t have minded one of the flashbangs the guards in the skybox used to carry in case of a riot.

Lexa gently pulls Clarke close to her, ‘Cover us. No killshots.’ She whispers softly but encouragingly, lifting the hand that holds the pistol but being careful never to touch the cold black metal. The Commander moves back to stand with Octavia behind Lincoln, who had taken a few steps back for a run up. Clarke moves to an advantageous position behind the trio. Lincoln bends down close to the ground in preparation and in the blink of an eye is off at a cracking speed towards the door with Lexa and Octavia close behind with their weapons drawn.

Where Clarke expected Lincoln to slow down, he instead sped up and at the last second before impact, launched himself back first through the door at top speed, tearing the door off its hinges as it flies through the confined space of the staircase. A scream of surprise follows the thunderous impact of Lincoln, and itself is followed by the warrior cries as the two warriors fly through the now open space to protect Lincoln while he regains his footing. Using the advantage of surprise they quickly gain the upper hand in the fight against four Azgeda guards, one of whom had fallen down the stairs hard and was nursing a cracked open skull with blood gushing from the wound.

Clarke rushes into the small space with her gun aimed low as to avoid any vital organs. As soon as her foot crosses the threshold however a wild axe comes flying at her exposed neck. Before she can even react she is pushed hard to the floor by Lexa who despite the fight sneaks a quick look to make sure that Clarke is alright. Lincoln is back on his feet now and is using his brawling skills to pummel his opponent to the ground, Octavia is holding the wrist of a swordsman to balance herself as she begins a kick that will push the Azgeda warrior down the stairs to join his comrade who appeared to have fainted from blood loss. Lexa herself seemed to have taken the most skilled warrior for herself. Lexa’s opponent held twin axes and a focussed yet vicious look on her war painted face. Lexa remained calm and composed, using her swords to deflect and parry the onslaught of attacks thrown at her. Causing a chorus of clangs to ring out through the cramped stair way. When Octavia’s foot makes connection, she succeeds in her goal of sending her opponent down the stairs, but at the cost of throwing herself back into the defending Lexa who is compromised as she stumbles backwards. The Ice Nation warrior sees an opportunity and has no hesitation as she brings her axes to either side of herself to deliver a killing blow to Lexa.

Deafening bangs scream out in the confined space, followed immediately by screams of pain, as Clarke who still hadn’t regained her upright footing, fires two rounds into the warriors unprotected legs. The warrior falls to the ground groaning in agony while pushing down heavily on the wound with her hands to try and stop the bleeding. Lincoln’s match had ended with a heavy-handed fist connecting with the temple of his target, who had now fallen to the floor in an unmoving heap.

Lincoln quickly disarms Lexa’s adversary of all her weapons and tears a piece of fabric from her own ragged attire and ties her hands together behind the charred metal railing. Meanwhile Lexa has turned to tend to Clarke to see if she’d sustained any wounds, but Clarke simply waved her away with a simple ‘I’m fine’. ‘Thank you, Clarke.’ Lexa says with care and graciousness shining in her eyes. Clarke, ever the healer, rushes down the flight of stairs to two of the unconscious warriors, quickly giving them a once over to make sure their injuries weren’t fatal. The one Octavia dispatched was fine, just bruised, but the other still had the occasional drop of blood leaking from the nasty wound. Clarke pulled a small bottle out of her healer’s kit and dabbed it on the cleanest piece of fabric she could find. Gently she cleared away the blood before wrapping his head carefully in another rag.

‘I can’t do more here. But they should both be fine for a while.’ She called up to the others who were patiently waiting on her, Lexa analysing one of the warriors axes while Octavia was gently massaging a part on Lincolns back that had just acted as a battering ram. When she re-joins the group Lincoln turns to head up the stairs but stops when he notices that he isn’t being followed. Bored eyes stare angrily into the hardened but curious face of Lexa, who had knelt down in front of the warrior she’d been fighting. She couldn’t help but be curious as to why these warriors still supported Ontari after she allowed the nightmare Clarke described to become a reality. But she is beaten to it. ‘We don’t support her you know.’ The warrior states in a defeated tone. She continues. ‘The King left us orders when she first became Heda, to protect her without her knowing about it. Before he died anyway.’

‘Why does Roan support her, he hates her?’ Clarke demands before Lexa has finished comprehending the information, Roan had nearly dies trying to reach her. ‘The King does what is best for Azgeda. Ontari, unfortunately is part of Azgeda.’ The defeated warrior simply answers.

‘You do not support her?’ Lexa continues.

‘No. She is a cruel and filled with a lust for blood, not fit for a leader.’ The warrior speaks her mind in a blatant tone, clearly not scared of the consequences that may befall her. ‘The Ice Queen locked her in a cupboard and threw away the key for nearly 2 decades. There is no empathy, or kindness left in her. Only hate, and power.’

Clarke frowns at the revelation, her experiences and understanding of Ontari were warring with this new information. Clarke could not decide whether to be sorry or scared of her. ‘Roan is not dead warrior. He is alive, in fact he helped the Skaikru to fight against Ontari.’ Lexa informs the warrior whose eyes widen in surprise. ‘My unit, we watched him get shot by your Skaikru commander.’ She spits at Clarke, falling just short. 

‘He was under control of the same enemy that held control of Ontari, ALIE. She is defeated now. How come you weren’t chipped?’ Clarke tries to persuade the warrior, who now only wears confusion, not understanding anything Clarke is talking about. Her hands are now soaked in drying blood and her skin had gone sickly pale. The conversation had distracted her and Clarke instantly dropped to her knees and began to see to the wound in the warrior’s leg, but ever resistant the warrior tries to kick her away. ‘Let me help you!’ Clarke forces the warriors injured leg to the ground where it is held by Lincoln. A few moments later and a tight bandage had been applied to the bullet holes that still leaked the occasional droplet of blood. All the while Octavia had been explaining the situation to the warrior, how Ontari had allowed her mind to be controlled and dragged the whole of polis into heresy. ‘That doesn’t surprise me.’ The warrior chuckled, slowly regaining her strength. ‘Ontari is weak and does not know how to lead, only how to destroy.’

‘How could you simply watch her destroy so many lives?’ Octavia questions, annoyance and anger filling her voice. She had seen so much blood the last time she’d entered the city it had nearly made her sick. ‘Because our King demanded it. We did not know why she was doing these things, we assumed those being tortured were prisoners.’ The warrior tries to defend her inaction. ‘You should have done something.’ Octavia insists.

‘Octavia.’ Clarke tries to gets her friend’s attention but is shrugged off by the angry woman. ‘No Clarke, they sat on their asses and watched her torture people for no good reason.’ Octavia sighs as she gradually begins to cool down. ‘Can we end this please?’

‘Yes. Let’s go.’ Lexa says calmly, following Lincoln up the stairs. ‘We’ll send someone to come get you. I’m sorry but we can’t risk you trying to stop us. The warrior nods acceptingly before saying ‘Good luck.’

Surprise stopped her for a moment but soon Clarke was following up the stairs after the others. 

After five straight minutes of climbing, Clarke decided to make a commitment to herself to improve her cardio, because she had already broken a sweat. The bodies that had been stored in freezer units and maintained on protein drips, were unsurprisingly still going strong while showing no signs of slowing down, though maybe that was the adrenaline and vengeful desire running through their veins. Clarke patted Octavia, who had also begun to slow down, on the back to let her know that she needed to keep moving. ‘Come on Octavia, we don’t want to lose them do we?’ Clarke asks sarcastically, hoping to lighten the tense mood in the dimly lit staircase.

Clarke hadn’t expected a response, but smiled a little when Octavia offered what sounded like a sincere chuckle. They hadn’t really had much of an opportunity to repair their relationships in the months since the mountain, and that was something Clarke wanted to fix. She had relied on Octavia when they’d first arrived on the ground and she wanted Octavia to be able to rely on her again. The stairs, while having long since been cleared of any rubble, were far from stable. Some even damaged so much that entire steps had simply fallen through. The lack of light in the small space didn’t help when Clarke nearly stepped right into an empty space, luckily Octavia’s instincts had allowed her to catch Clarke just in time. ‘Careful Princess, wouldn’t want to miss the party.’ she teased. Looking up through the shaft Clarke could see that the roof was only one more floor. The small sigh of relief was shared by the whole group when they stepped out onto solid ground.

Damp carpet greeted them. ‘This is where we shocked some of them.’ Octavia remembers how they’d used the flooded corridor to send an electric shock through some of ALIE’s drones. Seemed the water had mostly drained in the days that had followed. It still bugged her, she had no idea how so much water, enough to flood an entire corridor, had managed to appear on the top floor of a skyscraper. But she wasn’t going to complain about the opportunity it had allowed them.

They crept along the corridor until they heard Ontari’s voice, full of rage and malice, as she used it to berate someone. ‘I can do this all day.’ The sound of a fist connecting to skin was heard after. As Lexa reached a corner she peered into the throne room. Standing in the centre was no other than Ontari, surrounding her were some of the twelve ambassadors from the clans, each made to kneel before her with their hands bound behind their backs, and all wearing looks of absolute terror. The others stood tall and unafraid behind the imprisoned, looking right through the scene in front of them. They had chosen to surrender their people to escape pain. And gladly or not, had their weapons drawn and held close to their fellow ambassadors in case they wanted to try something. Hanging by his hands from the ceiling by a rope thrown over an exposed steel beam was the ambassador for the Lake People, his feet not even touching the ground.

His eyes were covered by a bandage that was soaked with blood, and tears of the same red were dripping down his face and onto his exposed chest where they became invisible among the cuts and welts that had begun to form on his body. Ontari’s fist stood at her side, covered in as much blood as he was, ‘Again! Say it again!’ she demands of him, arrogance and apathy prevalent in her prideful posture. ‘The Lake people follow you!’ he screams. Breaking into sobs he hangs his head in shame for his words. Lexa begins to move forward, anger and a need to protect was beginning to spread through her but she is stopped by Lincoln. 

The gratitude for stopping her from rushing in without thinking was obvious in her eyes as she turned and began to slowly advance to the door, being careful to not be seen by those that had already sided with Ontari. 

‘Shh, shh. It’s alright, you did the right thing didn’t you?’ Ontari maliciously taunted the broken man that hung before her, reaching under his chin to look him in the eyes. She chuckled to herself when no eyes met her, the small detail having slipped her mind. The already lanky man looked especially so with his body contorted in such an ugly fashion, Clarke watched on in worry that if he didn’t stand on something soon his shoulder would rip itself out of its socket from the pressure.

With a harsh boot to the abdomen, Ontari was finished with this prisoner, or so Clarke thought as she watched the sadistic woman walk to where the counterweight was that held the man up. But as she was about to untie the rope she turned back around. She gave herself a running start before pushing off of her left leg while driving the hard heel of her right foot straight into the man’s ribcage causing him to scream and blood to drool out of his mouth. ‘You are weak and pitiful! 16 years I suffered, and you can’t last more than a few hours! What kind of grounder are you? How can such weakness represent a clan? Or are you all just as weak?’ Ontari screamed and spat in the man’s battered face before beginning to lay into his exposed chest with various strikes all aimed with the simple goal of inducing suffering.

Lexa couldn’t stop the tensing of her spine when she heard those words. Only two other people had ever spoken like that. Titus, and Nia.

‘All of you look at me!’ Ontari demanded of the imprisoned ambassadors surrounding her. ‘Look at the weakness here before you! This will not be accepted in my coalition!’ The pale, fearful bodies around her all began to quiver, for hours they’d watched Ontari mercilessly beat their fellow ambassador, their resolve was already stretched thin. Turning back to the man, she lifted his face again and spoke very quietly, yet her voice was venomous and malicious. She demanded to know, ‘Who am I?’

‘Ontari Kom Azgeda.’ He croaks out, a swift jab lands on his jaw but he barely has time to recoil before his head is grabbed again. ‘Try again.’ She growls out. The man begins to franticly twitch, desperate to find the words that will end his suffering. ‘Ontari Kom Azgeda. Beja!’ He cries out. An uppercut is driven into his ribcage. ‘Get it right!’ she shouts in his ear, he struggles to recoil away but to no avail in her iron clad grip.

Lexa, forced to hide and watch as her people suffer, can feel the anger burning in the tips of her fingers as she itches to charge the monstrous woman and gut her where she stood for her crimes. Clarke and the others try not to cringe as they listen to the foul proclamations that Ontari is spewing out to her captive audience. All of them frigid with nerves telling them to move, to fight. But they wait with bated breath for what Lexa will do. Lincoln already stopped her from attacking out of irrationality, they needed Lexa to be calm and calculating like the woman who had made the hardest decisions none should need to make. Clarke only wished that Lexa didn’t have to be her.

‘Ontari Prom Heda!’ a sick smile begins to split open on Ontari’s face as she again turns to face her other subjects. Leaving the hanging man to sigh with relief. ‘Right. All of you. I am your Heda, not Lexa, not any of those little shits she raised. Me!’ Her sword is drawn in an instant, and the moment before it is plunged deep into the hanging man’s body as an example Lexa has her own swords drawn and steps into full view of the traitorous ambassadors. She had had enough, there was no way in hell that she would allow this sadist to name herself leader of all the people that Lexa had worked so hard to unite under a single banner. ‘You are no Heda Ontari!’

The standing ambassadors are taken aback at the sudden appearance while those on their knees would probably be kissing Lexa’s boots if they could be. Ontari herself turned slowly with an awkward smile on her face that betrayed her annoyance at being interrupted but also her delight at possibly receiving a more interesting event. ‘No?’ she starts, ‘I beg to differ. These good ambassadors were just about to agree to my ascension I believe.’ She gestures to all the prisoners with pleas of desperation shining bright in their terrified eyes. Clarke, Octavia and Lincoln enter the throne room behind Lexa with their weapons drawn.

‘Ascension is not a choice to be made Ontari. It is a responsibility that is earned. You would never be worthy of such power.’ Lexa lectures her with a cold and harsh tone.

‘And you would be so worthy Lexa?’ Ontari smiles gleefully, finally able to take on a real opponent. ‘I was disappointed I never had the chance to personally kill you, especially after everything your old bitch Costia said about you.’

Clarke desperately tried to grab onto Lexa’s arm with all her strength but it could never be enough to stop the being of pure unadulterated rage that had replaced Lexa in the blink of an eye. She wrenched herself out of Clarke’s grip, who fell forward with her balance ripped away. Clarke only maintained her footing when Octavia grabbed her from behind. Clarke began to try and pull Lexa out of the fight but is stopped herself by a solemn Octavia who simply shakes her head. ‘Don’t.’

Charging force with blind fury, Lexa swung with scary ferocity right at Ontari’s head, her intention to take her alive had fallen to dust in an instant, all she wanted now was blood. While the two clashed swords, Lincoln and Octavia charged the standing ambassadors who had been confused in the sudden appearance of their old Heda. Clarke stayed on the perimeter of the fight with her gun aimed always on Ontari. Ontari caught Clarke in her peripheral, and being able to fend off Lexa’s inaccurate but ferocious strikes with relative concentration, she decides to keep pushing the buttons. She knows that Lexa will sober out of her rage soon enough, and calculated fury was not a woman she was interested in fighting. ‘Hardly a fair fight with the Skaikru Wanheda’s gun trained on me don’t you think Lexa?’ Ontari sneers but the smile is quickly wiped when Lexa brings both of her swords down towards her head, only managing to fall out of the way with a few inches to spare. Lexa’s swords meet only air and clang loudly when they smash into the concrete.

‘It was you!’ she screams. Clarke could not think of a time where she’d heard such rage and anguish from someone, especially the usually collected Lexa she loved. Her face is twisted and contorted in ugly rage, boiling adrenaline steaming its way through her body driving her to seek revenge. Costia’s face, so long ago burned into her memory, is brought to the surface again after years of being buried away on the part of Lexa for her own sake. Her soft brown skin and beautiful curls that hang delicately down to her shoulders. The smile that had made Lexa blush.

Her grip adjusts on her blade as she begins a second charge, this time swinging with her left blade first, catching her opponent off guard and leaving a nasty, bloody gash torn through her sleeve and deep into her arm. Ontari hisses in pain and clumsily deflects the next blade before landing a swift kick to Lexa’s midsection that connects, giving her a moment of reprieve. She is truly worried now, Ontari had thought that an enraged Lexa would be easier to beat. With her opponent off her for the moment Ontari tries a different tactic. ‘Did you ever find out how we captured her Lexa?’ ‘You broke borders and stole her from her home!’ Lexa grunts out through heavy breaths, her mind already calculating what moves would be needed to win, to hurt, to kill. Her rage was slowly subsiding to the logic she had so long relied upon. That wrath would be allowed when it could not be used against her. For now, she needed to win.

But all her focus and planning faded away when the next words came out of Ontari’s mouth. ‘No. We received her. It seems like Titus hasn’t liked any of the girls you brought home.’ Ontari’s chokes out a twisted laugh as she spits black blood into the pile that had formed of the blood that had dripped out of her arm. Lexa is taken aback, so much so that her swords and stance falter slightly, leaving her open to the attack that Ontari launches. ‘No’ Lexa whispers in shock. Ontari charges Lexa with her swords spinning in the air as the sharp tip is aimed for Lexa’s heart. ‘No!’ Clarke screams throwing herself into Ontari as she is in the air, a moment before the blade reaches its target, and instead it slices into Clarke’s shoulder as Ontari slams hard to the ground with Clarke landing heavily on top of her, the gun slid across the ground to rest at Octavia’s feet. She and Lincoln had managed to disarm all the ambassador who had seemed rather willing to lay down their arms after seeing Lexa alive again. The blonde screams in pain as the warm liquid flows through her clothes and across her skin. She rolls across the ground trying to get away from Ontari. ‘Lexa!’ She screams to the warrior who snaps her head out of the trance that Ontari’s words had placed her in. She cannot escape as a rough hand grabs her by her hair and drags her to her feet. ‘Let her go Ontari!’ Lexa shouts while readopting her fighting stance with both swords held in front of her.

‘I don’t think so. I’m not done yet!’ Ontari shouts back, the loud words ringing around in Clarke’s ear. ‘What do you want?’ Lexa asks, doing what she has to ensure Clarke’s safety from the monster holding her, subtly signalling her other warriors not to interfere in case it went wrong. ‘Did you know Titus didn’t believe you were capable of making decisions with her around? He thought she was your weakness. He thought that without her around, you would finally be able to unite the clans, and I guess he was right wasn’t he?’ Clarke can see the pain in the broken green eyes. She can see the tears being held back by Lexa’s will alone. And she could feel the pain, and it hurt. If a razor sharp blade coated in her own blood was not being held against her throat, she would rush to envelop Lexa in her arms. ‘He raised me my whole life to believe love was weakness.’ Lexa whispered just loud enough to hear. ‘From the second he found me. He taught me that the only thing love would ever do to me, was defeat me.’

‘He sounds like Nia.’ Ontari remarked, not realising how deep those words cut into Lexa’s memory of the man who had raised her from near infancy. To think that he stood in the same regard as the woman who had so callously ordered the execution a girl, about whom she knew nothing except for a name. ‘But he was wrong.’

It is Ontari’s turn to be taken aback now. ‘How was he wrong, you did not have the strength to save, or even to avenge what mattered to you? You failed Costia, she died and you did nothing. There is no greater weakness then the failure to act.’ Ontari spits her words at Lexa like the doctrine that she herself had been raised on by Nia.

Octavia and Lincoln silently formulated a plan between themselves as they began to edge inch by inch closer to the centre of the room and closer to their trapped friend. 

Lexa struggles to control the hate that is bubbling away just beneath the surface, her body itching to attack. With a shaky voice Lexa tries to make sure that she doesn’t provoke Ontari, the tiny drips of blood that were coming off the blade at Clarke’s neck already made it look like her throat had been slit, she would not let that become a reality. ‘You stole her from me Ontari. You butchered an innocent girl. But I could not let an army die just to avenge her. I did the only thing I could! I invited you in, only to spare the lives of my people and those that were suffering under Nia’s!’ She shouts at Ontari, no matter how hard she tries the rage inside her needed to make itself known. ‘You will not see a new day if you kill her.’ Lexa threatens in a low, guttural tone that sent a small tingle down Clarke’s spine.

She locked her blue eyes with Lexa’s green and caught the glimmer of hope that had attracted her to them in the first place. Lexa had a plan, and she needed Clarke to play her part. She makes the slightest nod possible to show that she was ready.

‘I wouldn’t make threats if I…’ Ontari begins a threat of her own but never finishes, her hand had begun to loosen and Clarke took her opportunity, slamming her head back into Ontari’s face with as much force as she could muster before throwing herself to the ground and out of the way of the blade that an instant later ripped across the space where her throat just was. Ontari’s face had flung backward with blood spitting out of her broken nose. Lexa had not hesitated as she began her final determined charge at the groggy Ontari. She launched into the air while simultaneously twisting her body and dragging the blades through the air to gain momentum, and before her feet had hit the ground the unstoppable blades had torn through Ontari’s face as she’d attempted to dodge out of the way but not quickly enough. 

A wail full of agony roared out of Ontari as she shrunk to the floor before twisting onto her hands and knees and scampering across the room, facing away from the four that now stood together. Octavia had quickly gathered her sword, Ontari was defenceless. Ontari shot around, revealing the extent of her injuries. Lexa’s two swords had carved two deep parallel cuts down the right side of her face, starting a little behind her hairline, tracing down through her eyebrow, and her eye, ending just before her jawline. Half of her face is covered in black, as she holds her hand over her now destroyed eye as tears begin to fall unhindered out of the eye still remaining. Lexa took no pity and moved in to strike the executing blow but is stopped when Clarke grabbed her arm and stands partially in front of her blocking Ontari. ‘Lexa no. Blood must not have blood remember. Please be better.’ Clarke pleaded with Lexa, knowing that if she did this, Lexa would be no better than the mewling monster that was crawling away on the floor.

It didn’t matter either way, Ontari launched a desperate kick into the middle of Clarke’s back, thrusting her forward into Lexa, knocking them both back. She spins and grabs a rope that had been lying on the floor. Lincoln and Octavia rush after her but cannot stop her as she throws herself through the glass window and began to fall.

The other two quickly join Lincoln and Octavia at the window as they watch Ontari fall for a fraction of a second before the rope snaps firm. They watched as Ontari is whipped back up before she releases the rope and falls the last ten feet through a wooden market stand.

Ontari rolls out of the market stall onto her knees as she cradles her right arm. The bone ripping through the back of her shirt, now soaked with her blood. The other holding a splintered piece of wood with a sharp tip as the citizens of Polis begin to approach her with anger and vengeance on their minds. 

There is no fight though as a horse gallops through the market, trampling two of the crowd that hadn’t moved fast enough. Ontari recognises the white war paint of her home nation and allows herself to be picked up by the stranger by her good arm and pulled hastily onto the horse. Using her good arm, she clutches tight against the shirt of her saviour as they ride unhindered through the gates of Polis, north towards Azgeda.


	15. The Demon of the Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy struggles to cope with his injuries as a face from his close past returns to haunt him. And the face of his future is revealed to him.

Murphy

The Heavy gate slammed into the crumbling wall as it swung open, disturbing the carpet of sand that had been draped over Murphy’s cell since he’d been dragged out to fight for his life. Murphy’s deteriorated body was thrown into the cell, the blood from the gashes in his back quickly fell and began to pollute the sand, sinking through to the cold concrete floor. Whistling winds creeping in from the grated window are immediately lost by his groans of agony. 

“So, I win! And you’re still going to let me die!” He weakly groaned into the ground, no strength remaining to even raise his head. His heavy breath threw the sand into small tornados before his weary eyes. The sand had already begun to stick to his blood and tear soaked face as he tried with desperation to turn his head. He knew someone was there watching him suffer. And if he was going to endure this pain then he was going to make sure his audience was paying attention. A small snicker invaded the cell coming from the door as his head crashed back down into the sand, what little space there was to fall. Rage flashed over his features before sense returned to him. 

Murphy knew the guard was just looking for a rise, and if there was anything Murphy knew how to do, it was how to be spiteful. Rather than play into their hands Murphy surprised them by offering his own croaky chuckle. “I guess I’d be laughing in your place.”

“You already did.” Came the eerily calm voice, one Murphy never wanted to hear again. If pain hadn’t prevented him, Murphy would have spun around to face the emotionless face of the man who had relinquished his life to a program determined to enslave humanity in its entirety. “You pointed and laughed at me as I tried to pull you all out of the dark and lead us to a future not plagued by the mortality of these physical confines.” Murphy had managed to turn his eyes, in time to see Jaha refer to his body with arrogant disgust. “Ever the elitist. Right Jaha?”

“It wasn’t enough that you alone decided who lived and died on the Ark. Even carrying out their executions yourself, I saw the grin you had when my father was dragged out to die. That wasn’t enough, you had to be the saviour for everyone to praise on the ground too? Typical of power, you only want more.” Murphy had begun to drag his decaying body to the wall, turning the sand to red mud with his blood. He was desperately trying to at least sit with his back to the wall, and failing. “Must be nice for you, to watch. First you dragged me across the dessert and the ocean before you left me trapped, alone, in a room for three months, starving. That pissed me off, I’ll admit. I helped take down your brainwashed covenant. And now because of that. you get the pleasure of watching me bleed in a small cage like an animal.”

Murphy sat crumpled and broken in the corner of the cell, his bloodied face rested against the wall, no strength left to hold it up. He could feel his eyes growing heavy as he lost more blood every second. “You misunderstand me John.” Was the last thing Murphy heard before he slumped forward, consciousness abandoning him.

\--

“Not yet. Our friend John here is nothing, if not stubborn. But he will give us what we seek in time.” Boasted Jaha, to no one. Murphy couldn’t will his eyes open to look at the man, as the claws of sleep quickly began to drag at his mind. Not even leaving his brain enough time to recognise the pain he felt. Or to listen for the sound of stitches being pulled through bloody, wet skin. He quickly submitted to unconsciousness once more.

\--

“AHH!” He screamed in pain, his sweaty body lurched forward as his brain quickly raced to try and comprehend the pain he was feeling as well as his surroundings. “John Murphy!” Called out a firm but gentle voice, as a comforting hand grabbed his face and dragged it until she entered his view. Deep brown eyes, connected with his, he began to take in her features, head wrapped in her tattered grey shawl, the dark tattoo dancing down the right side of her face. And most importantly, the smile of humble relief, all quickly faded from view as she pulled his head to her chest and held him tight.

His mind had quickly adjusted itself, always looking for the way to defend from any threats. But there were none. In this well-lit room, it was only he and Emori. He allowed himself to be enveloped in her arms, to let his guard down and enjoy her closeness. 

Pain quickly began to make its way back to his mind, he hissed as Echo’s hand brushed against a bandage on his back. “It was a brittle blade, it snapped when you ripped it out. There were still fragments left inside the wound. They got all of them. But the skin will never heal properly.”

“Better than being dead.” Murphy groans in simmering pain.

“For a man so determined to stay alive, John, you really haven’t made the best series of choices.” Came the calm voice again as the door behind Emori had opened in silence. Emori snapped her head around to face the intruder, her expression changed in an instant from care to rage. In the next moment, she was flying at the man who had stolen her mind and controlled her body. But her fist was held from his face at the last moment by a hand with more scar then skin, as the woman Murphy remembers as Katerea entered his vision. He tried to stand but he just slumps to the floor, his body still weak from the blood loss. “Please don’t get up John. We want to help you.” Jaha requested with a cool tone writhe with a sense of control.

“And you say I make bad choices.” Murphy spat through a groan as he used the wall to raise himself. He lay his bare back against it, not letting the bandage touch the wall, only then did he realise that he had no shirt, no protection for his chest. Emori tore herself from Katerea’s grasp and raised her fists up ready and eager for a fight. “Don’t be stupid girl. You’ve got one good arm, and you don’t even know how to use it properly.” Jaha didn’t move, happy to let the situation unfold until he was ready to step in.

“Emori.” Murphy calls. Not taking her eyes off the two, Emori moves over to John and he wraps his arms around her. 

“You seem to think I have a vendetta against you John. Why is that? I have never wanted anything but the best for you. Nor have I ever done anything that was not for your benefit, despite how you think you saw it.” Jaha asked with genuine confusion painting his features.

“You actually believe that crap?” Murphy couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the older man’s words. “You actually think that you’re doing what’s best for me.”

“Always. I didn’t send you to the arena to fight. In fact, I asked them to overlook your crime.” Jaha presented with enthused and arrogant benevolence.

“Crime? That kid attacked us.” Argued Emori.

“Hush Emori. You should know the Sankru collect all outsiders.” Jaha didn’t even bother to look at her, not important to him.

Murphy, feeling his strength slowly creep back into his body, or maybe his rage, looked down as he saw colour returning to his pale skin. There was a reason Jaha was talking to him, and going in circles wasn’t going to get them anywhere. He decided to indulge Jaha and address the man directly. “What do you want from me Jaha?”

“I want, what I have always wanted for you. To make you stronger, to help you survive.” Jaha spread his arms as if he was delivering a sermon to the masses.

“With ALIE gone, I’m gonna guess you might have a tough time doing that now, what with us all only having six months at most left to live.” Murphy smiled at the surprise on Jaha’s face. “Yeah. Clarke told us everything.”

“What does he mean six months Jaha.” Katerea turned to her apparent ally. Murphy enjoyed a small pleasure in watching Jaha desperately try to compose himself and come up with the next in the already extensive list of lies. “Tell her Jaha. Tell her about the nuclear reactors that are going to turn the water and rain to poison, and the ground into a barren wasteland.”

In the brink of an eye a knife was drawn and held to Jaha’s throat the tip pressing just under his jaw bone, a small push upwards and Jaha would be dead before he hit the ground. “Yes, Jaha please do tell us about these, nuclear reactors.” She tries the words for size, they sounded like an alien language coming from her mouth. Emori planned a move for the exit while the supposed captors were distracted, Murphy could sense her tense shoulders. He grabbed her shoulder tight, and in a moment where Katerea was not looking at them he whispers. “Don’t.”

“When were you going to share this with us Jaha? Cause if you ask me, that sounds like something the big boss would like to know.”

Jaha sighs, as if he is bored with the situation. “Look what you make me do John.” He said with mock boredom. In the next instant, he had brought his left arm up, shoved the knife away from his throat, while he wrapped his other hand around the Katerea’s throat and clenched tight. He dug his finger nails into her skin, drawing drops of blood that dripped off his hand onto the floor. The knife cluttered loudly to the floor, her eyes darted around frantically looking for it, for something. Her nails scratched at his arms, he didn’t even acknowledge it as if there was no feeling in his arm, or no pain specifically. His blood from the scratches joined hers on the floor as he applied more pressure, his other hand closed tight around her throat, soon he stood over her as she is dropped to her knees from the weight and strength. With her flailing arms, she desperately reached for his face, to scratch at his eyes maybe. But the flailing quickly ceased as they fell limp to her sides. The last few desperate raspy breaths croaked out before there was silence again. Satisfied, Jaha released his grip and straightened himself again automatically as if to look presentable again, leaving her body to sit on her knees, before the weight dragged her head forward. It cracked on the ground with a sickening thud, her eyes closed. 

Murphy’s heart raced in his chest as he watched. But not out of surprise, out of fear and anger. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen Jaha do this, only last time all the older man had needed to do was press a button. The man’s eyes showed not even a hint of remorse, or even recognition that he’d taken a life, just cold calculation. Emori’s grip had tightened on him, she, like him, was searching for a way to combat the heartless monster if the need arose, which they both were certain, would.

“What is going on here?” Came a shout of anger as a hooded figure kicked the door open, it slammed into the back of Jaha, dropping him to the ground as the wood cracked off his skull. “Katerea!” screamed the figure as hands wrapped in rags like makeshift gloves reach down, fingers pressed hard against the pulse point in Katerea’s neck. “Guards!” She screamed. Only moments later did a whole squad burst into the room, quickly surrounding them with swords and jagged axes. “Take him!” she demanded, her finger pointing at Jaha’s unconscious form.

“And you. Explain.” She aims an angry looking dagger right at Murphy, piercing blue eyes hot as fresh blood glared at him from under a heavy hood.

\--

“Our ambassador returned to us two weeks ago, carrying a sack of these ‘chips’ as you call them, I had the first. A woman in red clothing appeared, she bore no armour or weapons, or colours. Her skin was clean and pale, there were no scars. Her words were empty, there was no feeling in her voice. She spoke of the fires that had burnt the skies a hundred years ago, and how she could save us all, stop it ever happening again.”

Murphy and Emori sat on the bed across from the hooded figure, a woman he guessed by the pitch of the voice. Guards stood behind her, not listening to her words and yet their full focus on her, just as they were trained to be. As she was about to continue the door behind the figure opened with a young boy running in with a determined but friendly face. “Sandeveska, she is alive, but weak.” She nods and waved him away, before he ran out he snuck a quick look at Murphy. “You fight like a coward.” He spat before rushing off.

“Who won?” Murphy shouted out behind the boy, they could hear the patter of footsteps halt for a second before they continue, slower now. 

Murphy’s heart had slowed since Jaha had been taken away, he assumed the boy had been talking about Katerea. He was uncertain whether he should be happy the sadistic woman survived Jaha’s assault. “You are a cowardly fighter, but a smart one.” The hooded figure reworded the small boy’s attack. “Better to live a coward then die brave.” Murphy groaned, the stitches in his back had been stretched during the confrontation. Drops of blood had started to trail down his back like wet paint on a canvas. “Many among my warriors would laugh for leading such a way of life.” As Murphy was about to retort she held her hand, silencing him. “You are not wrong, both kinds have a role to play in battle, the brave attack while the cowardly flank and take the easy kill that is distracted by the head-on attack. Both rely on the other for victory.”

Tiredness was slowly filling Murphy, still nowhere close to recovered from his injuries. He wanted to get to the point, though also not eager to aggravate this woman. The boy had said ‘Sandeveska’. “The Demon of the Sand.” Murphy announced her title in his native language.

“If you like.”

“What do you want with us?” Emori asked, feeling Murphy begin to lean into her more and more as his awareness began to fleet.

“I want him to fight for me.”

“In those pits. Nice offer but I’ll pass.”

“No, not in the pits, but by my side as my advisor.” She said, as if the matter had already been decided. Before Murphy could question she cut him off. “We welcomed Jaha, as the emissary of ALIE. Yet here you tell us she is no more. I am inclined to believe you as non who have taken the chip can see her now. You are Skaikru, connected to what happened. Connected to the most technologically advanced clan in the entire coalition.”

“Answer’s still no. We didn’t want to even find Sankru.” Emori explained. “We were heading to the ocean to the east.”

“Why, what’s to the east?”

“Nothing.” Emori lied. “That’s the point. We didn’t want to be with the others. 6 months alone together, with acceptance of the inevitable. Is better than 6 months fighting and suffering in an unwinnable battle.” There was some truth to her words. She and Murphy had planned to leave everyone and spend the last of theirs and this world’s days alone. But not in the dessert. They had agreed the mansion where Murphy had first met ALIE would be as good a place as any. It had survived the first apocalypse, maybe it would withstand a second. And if it didn’t then it was certainly more comfortable than anything either of them had ever been used to.

“You do not believe there is a way of escaping this second firestorm?” The Sandeveska asks, fear and concern creeping into her voice. She cared, she cared for the safety of her people. Murphy hadn’t seen that kind of care for people since Lexa. 

“No.” Murphy stated simply but definitively, nearly held up entirely by Emori at that moment.

Observing the fading man, Sandeveska decided that the discussion could be continued later. She turned to leave, but before she does, she gave an order to the guards. “Find me when he wakes.”

“Think on it John. We will speak soon Emori. Rest now.”

\--

Murphy’s eyes slowly opened with ease in the pitch-black room. A large sheet was pulled up over his chest. Thankful he was wearing a shirt again, a different one, not covered in his own blood. He hated being without a shirt since Ontari had stripped him. 

He didn’t try to sit up, there was a small but harrowing pain that was ringing around his head, tracing up from the torn-up flesh in his back. He brushed the greasy hair out of his face, if nothing else the mansion had somehow managed to maintain running water. Above him he could see through dirty glass, the moon beginning to crawl out from behind a cloud and it brought back memories of his time up there in the sky. How he’d looked out of a window on the ark and the views of the earth and the moon hadn’t amazed him. That had been his normality. He almost wished he could have stayed up there. Alone. With no one to try and hurt him. Just leave him alone to watch the moon slowly spin around until the air ran out and he fell asleep. To die in the face of beauty, now he would have accepted it as a gift, rather than the future that awaited him on the ground.

Jaha should have died like that. 

He tore his eyes away and used the moonlight to take in his surroundings. It was a different room then before. Smaller, yet also warmer. On the sandy walls were drawings, and pictures, of life before the sky burnt to ash. There was a picture beneath the window of a family standing in front of a large metal statue, with water spraying out of it at various points, only to fall into a pool. It was impossible for him to imagine such a world, where water was in such abundance that it could be used for decoration. Especially when he had seen the naturally magnificent waterfalls that the jungle had to offer. 

Finally, his eyes drifted down to the bed he lay in. And the woman who had her arms wrapped around a pillow resting next to his feet, her head rested lightly on the pillow. Her eyes darted around beneath her eyelids, small groans arose from her sleep, occasionally flinching. A nightmare, probably of the time she’d been under ALIE’s control.

Murphy groaned as he reached down to lightly shake her awake. “Emori. Wake up.” She jolted back, bringing her hands up to protect her face. She huffed for a few moments before she too took in her surroundings while rubbing her arms, trying to stave of the cold. “Come up here.” Murphy whispered, he patted the space next to him. She smiled with relief and quickly climbed under the covers. They soon adjusted themselves with Emori holding Murphy tight under her arm with his head on her chest, slowly listening to her heartbeat as it beat away. She quickly drifted back off. In her sleep, she pulled him close.

He watched for a while until sleep began to reach back for him, he let it, he was safe.

\--

“Wake up.” Emori whispered into John’s ear as the door to their apparent quarters opened. He still slept, with heavy breath.

“He awake yet?” Asked the heavy grunt that stood in the doorway. Emori shook her head, while trying to subtly nudge the man awake, she knew he didn’t like to be shaken. But It worked and Murphy began to slowly open his eyes, annoyance clear in them as he looked up, he saw Emori not looking at him but past him.

“Wait here.” Ordered the imposing man before he left. For the few moments he was gone, Murphy and Emori began to discuss their plan. “You’re not a prisoner anymore I don’t think.” Emori started.

“Yeah, they botched the execution.” Murphy hissed with his usual cynical tone as Emori lifted the back of his shirt to inspect the wound. She was not a healer, but had seen her fair share of deadly wounds. If this were to kill him it would have done so by now. The only problem now was infection, those she knew how to handle.

“What is this place anyway? It’s like there’s a whole city underneath the sand.” Murphy asked with abundant curiosity, as his eyes are drawn to the sand being heaved against the glass window by the winds outside, occasionally letting a small ray of sunlight creep into the otherwise poorly lit room. He turned back to Emori, waiting for a response only to find her attention on one of the photos against the wall. A different one then the one with the fountain that had caught Murphy’s attention last night. In the photo, so old that its colour had faded, he could see a woman in an odd-looking uniform, it was clear that her left arm was missing. She was standing straight with her right hand in a salute. He could see the pride she had in herself. He hadn’t noticed before, but Emori had started to trace the outline of her mutated hand.

“You grew up here, didn’t you?” He asked.

“I had to be born somewhere. Being born away from one of the colonies may as well have been a death sentence, especially for someone like me.” Murphy grabbed her mutated hand in his and slowly shifted his aching body so that he sat next to her, both their feet flat against the cool ground. “This room used to be a memorial to the world before the Praimfaya. It was supposed to allow Sankru to connect to the history that had been burned away. Her uniform, I always believed that if she, with no arm at all, could serve proudly for a cause. Then surely, I could also. They laughed me all the way to the colony entrance when I asked to train to be a warrior.”

Murphy could feel the tight grip on his hand, he didn’t need to see her face to know this was hard for her to talk about. He imagined a small child staring up at the framed picture, trading glances with it and her hand, a glimmer of hope shining in her innocent eyes. “My brother was not as badly scarred by his birth. They offered him the chance to be a warrior, only if he abandoned his name. So he could bring no shame to his blood for not being pure. He spat in their faces and chased after me. He was lucky to find me at all in the dessert. And even than I lost him to that bitch in the red dress.”

“I never even got to say goodbye to my family. I wonder if they’re still here?”

“They’re not Emori.” Came the warm, though commanding voice of Sandeveska from the doorway. Standing there still in the swaying black robe with the heavy hood pulled low over her face.

“You remember this abominations name. I’m flattered.” Emori’s shield built on a life of torment raised in an instant. The sadness that had dragged on her features a moment ago had faded in an instant as she spun around to face the intruder to their private moment. 

“I was not the one who cast you out. Your parents left within a week of your brother. Took everything they had that could be carried and disappeared over night. I found to guards unconscious at the entrance that night. It appears they were unsuccessful in finding their family. My condolences.”

Emori’s face lightens at the information, but still she kept herself wary. Rather than responding with words she simply nodded.

The Sandeveska took that as a sign she could continue. “As I said, I was not the one who cast you out Emori, and had I been in power at the time you wouldn’t have been at all.” She doesn’t get the chance to continue as Emori laughs. Rage filling her at this leader’s false promises. “Of course, you would have. Don’t lie to me when a child could see right through it.”

The woman simply sighed, she looked behind her to make sure the door was shut. Delicately, she pulled the hood of her robe back over her face, revealing herself, causing Emori to recoil in shock. Her skin was broken and torn in all directions, across her head patches of stringy black hair broken out in clumped patches across her head. Her eyes, Murphy could see them unhindered for the first time. They shone as if there were an artificial light powering them, the blue blazing out and gripping at his soul. Murphy remembered Emori’s brother, the mutation had only affected the skin around his mouth, but the Sandeveska’s condition was far more spread, reaching down her neck with ragged lumps and scars, even across her hands her skin was red and broken. “They chose you?” were Emori’s first words once she recovered from surprise.

“I didn’t give them a choice. I presented them the heads of all the champions they sent to drive me into the sand. They hated it, me. And they hated that I was able to make Sankru better than they ever had.” Emori’s scepticism must have shown because the other woman chuckled a little before continuing. “I would not expect you to believe me Emori. It was only a few years ago that I took command, the word of change likely hasn’t spread yet to those who wander the planes. But rest assured, no one will try to throw you out unless you give me reason to order them to.”

“Why the robe?” It had been bugging Murphy since he’d looked up at her as she’d ordered his match to begin. “The people don’t know a person as their leader anymore, they know this symbol, they believe in the figure that wears it. And it protects my identity, I only had the opportunity to become Sandeveska because the one before me had his throat slit in his own bed.”

“You should stand before your people as yourself, not as a voice woven in a hood.” Emori pushed. “Probably, yes Emori. Few know that their leader is one who they would have thrown to the sands only a few years ago. There will come a time when I can reveal myself to them, but it is not this time. And I will not let all my work crumble under the hatred of my skin.”

“You claim to fight for us, but hide yourself. You could be a champion for your own cause, yet you hide?” Emori having lived her life as a nomad had come to be proud of her difference, and it annoyed her to see someone the same as her so close to power, only to hide behind a veil. 

“I understand Emori. I do. Do you not think that could I walk these halls with my head high, I wouldn’t? That is something I must work towards. Change must be offered to the people, if it is forced it will be rejected. It is a broken system but it is the only one I can lead. No child has been exiled in three years, we work just as the rest do. The day where we can walk the halls and be no different than those without scars, is the day I shall walk as one of the people. For now, I must be separate, I must lead these people to embrace that acceptance.”

Emori reached out with her mutilated hand, an offering of understanding. It was eagerly accepted, by the Sandeveska. She pulled the leader close to her, “Let me prove to you that we have reached that point. Let us show these people that the ‘Demon of the Sand’ is to be respected, not feared. Walk without your hood. With so little time left in all our lives, don’t let it be spent hidden.”

Emori turned back to John with a smile, and offered her mutated hand for him to support himself as he stood. “I take it we’re staying then?” he said. “Sure, sounds fun. Let’s see what we can change before we all die from breathing the toxic air.” His voice was plagued with the humour of the gallows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile.  
> I've needed this time, it got to a point where thinking about this story, specifically the death of Lexa, brought me only pain.  
> But I'm hoping that i can get back into writing this.
> 
> Anyway enough with the dreariness. I hope you enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, any suggestions are welcome.


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